


Of Doves and Dragons

by LanternWaste



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 230,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27665741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LanternWaste/pseuds/LanternWaste
Summary: "It's our choices that weigh heavy on our souls long after the scene fades."She was born for him. He was born to fail.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 100





	1. The Questioning of Squibs

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This story is split into 4 parts. This story is a good mix of movie Harry Potter and book Harry Potter. This is canon-divergent so certain events happen in different orders and the closer you get to the end the more divergent the story becomes. This is the most research I have ever done for a novel and therefore if something doesn't add up there is a reason for it.
> 
> This is still a WIP! So please be kind!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART ONE
> 
> In which, she was born for him and he was born to fail.

“Oh, Father tell me, do we get what we deserve? Whoa, we get what we deserve. And way down we go.”  
-KALEO, Way down We Go

It was on a strange summer day that a small party of three stood in front of a black iron gate that emerged out of ten-foot-tall hedges. Twin snakes coiled together around a large M where the gate met in a disturbing dance. There was a long dirt path lined with maze like shrubbery, leading up to a dark mansion, that could be seen through the small gapes of the barred gate. Even though the sun was looming high in the sky with nary a cloud, the estate remained veiled in an elegant darkness.

Blaine and Olivia Knight clasped their hands together at the entrance of Malfoy Manor with relieved breaths. Olivia glanced behind her shoulder to ensure their daughter, Ember, had survived the nauseating trip. She was shaky on her feet, eyes blinking dramatically, but otherwise unaffected as her small hand let go of her father’s bicep.

“Where are we?” She asked timidly, gazing up at the omnipresent estate, trying to suppress the nausea that had captured her stomach.

Ember Knight had just celebrated her fifteenth birthday in May. She was rather plain. She had wavy chocolate brown locks that stopped just above her breasts, was rather too skinny for her own good, had no curves to speak of her femininity, but she had the most enticing pair of forest green eyes you had ever seen. She was beautiful in the way of subtle grace. She was the perfectly sculpted model of what her parents had wanted her to be.

Ember never talked much. She never really got the opportunity. Her parents were frugal with the amount of attention they showed their only daughter. She knew that if she asked a question or made a comment that it would be received with silence or mild annoyance. It was always easier to remain silent than to be scolded over having a voice.

She grew up shy with a yearning for learning. She was a very bright girl, always reading everything she could get her hands on. Unfortunately, when one excels at learning they usually are very curious- Ember was no exception. Her parents however never gave her any worthwhile answers. More often than not they didn’t even try to placate her; they would rather scold her than indulge her curiosities. 

“Please behave yourself Ember.” Her mother sighed brushing her own shoulder length blonde hair behind her ear.

Ember frowned, pulling the sleeves of her light cardigan over her thumbs.

Blaine nonchalantly pulled his wand out of his pocket and flicked it smoothly by his side. The gate groaned as it shifted open, granting the party entrance. “Yes. Don’t say anything stupid.” He remarked coldly towards his daughter before tightening his hold on Olivia’s hand and beginning to trek down the graveled path. 

Ember sighed, ignoring the sting of his words, and began to follow behind her parents obediently. 

Large peacocks caught her eye as they roamed on top of the wall of greenery. They cawed at the group occasionally, there long glorious necks stretching out indignantly, but mostly they kept to themselves. Her parents paid no mind to the exotic birds which gave Ember the impression that they had been here before.

Olivia glanced at her husband from the corner of her eye before letting out a gentle sigh of her own. Finally being able to deliver on their side of the deal soon meant that she would be free of the small amount of motherly guilt she had carried around for fifteen years. 

They both had been filled with shame when their only child never presented any sign of magic. It was rare that a pure-blood child was magicless but it did happen. Merlin knows they had tried everything to knock magic into her, before giving up altogether and placing their shame in their daughter. They hoped that this arrangement would somehow awaken her dormant magical genes.

“Now the Malfoy’s are very important people.” Olivia stated easily.

“So don’t act childishly.” Blaine tacked on quickly. Ember didn’t have to see his face to know that he was arrogantly rolling his green eyes. 

She had always thought of her father as a very powerful man. He had never disclosed his profession to her, but she always imagined him to be the CEO of some major corporation. He was always dressed in an immaculate power suit, walked with superior authority, and oozed confidence. He fit nicely there in her mind; always bossing people around.

“And remember,” Her mother added, “This is and was for the best.”

This was a new level of vagueness even for her parents. “But-” she began, frustrated, only to be cut off by her father.

“I don’t want to hear a thing.”

The trio finally escaped the hedges and stepped into the humble courtyard. The gravel pathway curved around a large charcoal fountain that laid before a large Victorian manor. As they crossed the courtyard, the hedges dissolved into lines of shrubs that caged in the entrance from the acres of well-maintained land on either side of the mansion.

After ascending up the front steps, Olivia turned to her daughter and began to straighten out her long hair. She flattened out her cardigan, uncovering Ember’s thumbs with a gentle scold, and tilted her chin upward. Her mother was careful not to meet her eyes as she inspected her as if she was being sold at auction. “Who are the Malfoys?” She whispered as her father took the large gargoyle door knocker in his hand and knocked three times.

“They are a very old family friend.” Her mother whispered back before turning towards the door. She scooted closer to her husband in an effort to conceal Ember.

It was only a moment later before the large door opened and Ember heard a woman shout, “Olivia!” before bringing her mother into a hug.

“Oh Narcissa!” Olivia gushed before wrapping her arms around the woman’s small frame.

Narcissa Malfoy had pale skin, like a porcelain doll, that stretched tightly among her body creating a valuable exterior. Her hair was most unusual. It was predominantly dark black with long streaks of snow white twisted back on the sides. She had thin eye brows that were rested high above deep blue eyes. Her red painted lips were lifted into a courteous smile as she and Olivia separated.

Ember stood where she was, with her hands nervously clasped in front of her, waiting for a proper introduction as her father took a step forward. He lifted one of Narcissa’s hands placing a courtly kiss to her skin. “It is very good to see you again Narcissa.”

“You as well Blaine. It has been far too long.” Narcissa gave him an acute smile that did not reach her eyes and stepped aside, gesturing for the company to enter. “Please come in.”

Her parents entered swiftly, unknowingly revealing a self-conscious Ember. Her toe caught on the small step of the doorway and she stumbled ungracefully into the house, catching Narcissa’s gaze immediately. 

The woman looked down at her with surprisingly kind eyes and an even warmer smile. “Is this her?”

Olivia smiled politely as Blaine tongued the inside of his cheek with a reserved glare, “Yes. This is our daughter, Ember.”

Narcissa closed the door behind her softly before giving her a slow once over. Her eyes inspected her seemingly uncritically, “Well isn’t she lovely.”

Ember stared dumbstruck at the older woman. No one had ever called her lovely before. Blaine nudged Ember in the ribs, which was sure to leave a bruise, causing her to school her features before plastering a pleasant smile on her face and curtseying. “It’s very nice to meet you Mrs. Malfoy.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” She responded respectfully.

“Well we better get going.” Blaine announced smoothly, reaching around Ember for the handle of the door.

“Oh. Won’t you stay for some tea?” Mrs. Malfoy asked hopefully.

“No, we really must be going. We have a tight schedule to keep. Tell Lucius we said hello next time you see him, won’t you?” He replied impatiently.

Why are we in such a hurry to leave when we only just arrived? Ember thought curiously as her father opened the door and ushered her mother forward.

Quizzically she made to follow, when her father turned on his heel smoothly, almost knocking the poor girl down. “You are to stay here Ember.”

“What?” She asked ungracefully in a panicked voice. While Mrs. Malfoy seemed like a lovely woman, the mansion carried an unsettling vibe that chilled Ember’s bones. Surely her parents would have mentioned that she would be staying here.

“We will see you at the end of the summer. Be polite and courteous. I don’t want an owl sent to me on your behavior.” Her mother announced, brushing some of Ember’s hair back into place.

“An owl?” She asked confused. Why would they send her an owl?

When her question went unanswered and the two of them made to turn back towards the courtyard, Ember repeated softly, “I am to stay here…all summer?”

They ignored her completely, giving Narcissa a respectful good-bye before closing the door behind them.

Ember just stood there with her heart on the floor staring at the now closed door, too shocked to move. Her parents had never just left her with a practical stranger before. 

“I know you must be confused dear, but everything will work out.” Narcissa told the small girl who stood there like a forgotten puppy without a purpose. Ember sighed sadly before turning to face her host once more offering her a smile so small it might not have even been there. “Right this way and I’ll show you to your room.”

Mrs. Malfoy began to climb the long rather grand staircase that led right from the foyer. Ember followed compliantly, shying away at every new piece of décor her gaze came across. The house was nothing but cold marble, gloomy walls, and accented greens with pops of silver. It was extravagant, it was ostentatious, it was depressing. All the expense could not mask the manors underlying foreboding nature. It left Ember with a malicious taste in her mouth- like dried blood.

Once on the second floor, they crossed one endless hall before turning down another that was narrow and windowless. They stopped at a door off to the left next to a large ficus. Mrs. Malfoy pushed open the door and with a welcoming smile. “Here we are.”

Ember timidly entered the room before confusion plagued her face. She gazed about the room with a critical, disbelieving, eye. The room was an exact replica to the one she had at her own home, right down to the old bed with her white duvet. She turned her torso back to the mysterious woman in the doorway. “How is this exactly like my room back home?” She asked suspiciously.

Narcissa arched a perfect brow, her lips forming a small ‘o’. Her eyes floated around the room with a quick glance before she nonchalantly shrugged her shoulders. “Oh. How peculiar…” She answered vaguely.

Ember frowned, making her way towards the dusty wardrobe in the corner by the window, curious to see if her few belongings were among the rest of the suspicious furniture, when Mrs. Malfoy intervened. “How about some tea?” She asked with a small clap of her hand. She left the doorway and began walking back down the hall with quicker steps.

Ember huffed, but followed the woman back down the stairs and into the elegant sitting room. She would have time to explore and ponder her room later.

She sat down in one of the mahogany chairs at the round table in the corner as Mrs. Malfoy poured freshly brewed tea into two delicate tea cups adorned with green peonies.

“My dear,” Mrs. Malfoy began as she finished pouring herself a cup and sat in the adjacent chair. “How old are you again?”

“I just turned fifteen a few weeks ago, Mrs. Malfoy” She answered before taking a small sip of her tea. Warmth instantly spread throughout her, always cold, body and relaxed her nerves. Really, she thought, there was nothing a good cup of tea could not fix.

“Please call me, Narcissa” She corrected tactfully while spinning sugar into her own cup of tea. “What school do you attend?”

Ember paused for a moment wondering why she was being subjugated to such trivial small talk when quite frankly there was an elephant in the room that she wanted addressed. “Bracelyn Academy.” She answered amiably.

“And is that a selective school?”

Ember nodded. She noticed Narcissa’s perfectly manicured nails tapping against the delicate tea cup.

“And how long have you attended?” She asked peering over her cup.

“This will be my eighth year,” She responded taking another generous sip from her tea. She bit her tongue against the questions she wanted to ask. If it hadn’t been brought into the conversation by now she was sure that it wouldn’t be introduced any time soon. Her head began to ache at the intense whirlwind of questions suppressed. She could only hope that she would find some answers before the end of summer. 

Suddenly loud footsteps carried down the hallway from the foyer and a male voiced shouted, “Mum?”

Narcissa, who had been in the middle of taking another sip of tea, leaned forward, roughly swallowing what had managed to get past her lips, and placed her tea cup back in the saucer just a hair too sharply, in a truly awkward move from the pristine woman. She dapped her lips and chin with a lace trimmed cloth and called, “In here, dear!”

Soon enough a boy walked through the open entry way, his eyes immediately falling on Ember’s figure in the corner. He was tall, wearing a tailored suit that contoured his lean frame flawlessly. His hair, the same shade of platinum that his mums contained, was slicked back with the exception of one strand that fell into his pale blue eyes. His suit jacket that was unbuttoned, the slightly wrinkled shirt beneath it, and that one incredibly out of place strand of hair gave her the impression that he was either in a hurry to leave or had been in a hurry to get back.

“Draco, this is Ember Knight. Ember, this is my son Draco.” Narcissa introduced, careful to hide the nervous tone her voice had taken.

Draco’s eyes danced over her analytically causing her to blush and avoid eye contact with him altogether. His pale lips parted in understanding, gazing down at the small girl that easily resembled a doll at a tea party, and looked side ways to his anxious mother. “Is this the squib?”

Narcissa scowled. “Draco…” She hissed, but under his indignant eyes, she shook her head minutely.

Ember unconsciously cocked her head to the side at such a weird term. By his tone it was clearly meant to insult her, but she found it hard to be offended by something she didn’t understand. His eyes traveled back to her and she wished that she could fade into the wallpaper under such an intense gaze. It was like he looked right through her, into her very soul, and was able to count all the ways she was flawed.

“Why don’t you join us for tea?” Narcissa smoothed over eagerly. It was all she could do to slice the tension in the air. She understood the strain from her son, but she could also clearly see how uncomfortable the introduction was making Ember.

Draco pursed his lips before sighing and dragging out the chair next to his mother. He fell into it suavely and rolled his eyes in irritation as his mother stood up and walked into the adjoining kitchenette. He clasped his nimble hands and titled his head to get a better look at the girl now that they were left alone.

She was demure, sitting in the chair with perfect posture, her gaze diverted submissively, a shade of pink, the same tone of her rouge lips, covering her cheeks. He could see her fingers twitch as they laid in her lap. Her chest rose and fell just a beat too fast, betraying her anxiety.

“How old are you? Thirteen?” He asked abruptly, any kindness he possessed was well out of his grasp with the present situation.

Her vibrant eyes flicked up to his and he felt his breath hitch in just a whisper of admiration before his lips pulled down into a frown.

“I’m fifteen,” She whispered. It was not unusual that she was mistaken as younger than what she was. She was a tiny thing, without any real personality to her features that gave the perception that she hadn’t discovered herself enough to present a truthful first impression. “How old are you?” She responded in kind, although with a much softer approach.

“Seventeen.” He answered brusquely, waving his hand as if it was of little importance. He had only been seventeen for a little over a week and already the enthusiasm of reaching such a milestone was fading into indifference. He crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back in his chair with a curious expression. “So you really don’t know anything?”

“Excuse me?” She frowned. Had this random boy, in this random house, just implied that she was unintelligent?

He licked his bottom lip at the look of contempt crossed her face. Clearly his words had offended her without the proper context. “I mean that you don’t know anything about the reason why you are here?”

Her eyes left his as she reached out to straighten a wayward doily. “Oh, no. I don’t.”

He hummed in response. He had already known the answer, but was nonetheless interested in the confirmation. If she knew why she was here she would not have been acting so passive towards him.

She took another deep breath, wondering when his mother would return with his tea and end this painful interrogation. “What is a squib?” She asked, plucking up the courage to look back at him.

His face remained calculating for a moment before he smirked as if he was in on some secret joke. “Oh, nothing you need to be concerned about.”

The smirk filled his face with mischief and the response on Ember’s lips died as Mrs. Malfoy reentered the sitting room with a silver tray table, filled with fresh tea, another tea cup, an arrangement of pastries, and a peace-keeping smile on her face.


	2. The Books of Wizards

“This dream isn’t feeling sweet. We’re reeling through the midnight streets, and I’ve never felt more alone. It feels so scary getting old.”  
-Lorde, Ribs

“You do realize that you don’t have to sit there and stare out the window all day, right?” Draco asked as he strutted back into the room.

What was she to do?

She had no school work because it was the middle of the summer holidays and anyone she knew were possibly thousands of miles away. She had debated exploring the house she now occupied but quickly rejected the thought. She shouldn’t be snooping around another’s home and, to be quite honest, she was terrified of what she might come across.

Therefore, after their unstimulating tea session turned into an even more uncomfortable lunch of small sandwiches and fresh fruit, she remained sitting at the window of their sitting room staring out the large bay windows that looked out on the courtyard she had walked through that morning.

“Ember?” His voice rattled her back into reality. She blushed slightly, realizing the question had in fact not been rhetorical. After the very few hours she had spent in Draco Malfoy’s company one thing that she picked up on easily enough was his overuse of dry sarcasm. She wasn’t use to that sense of humor and therefore was a little slow on the uptake with some of his comments.

“Oh, sorry.” She spoke softly, blinking out of her dreamy daze.

Mrs. Malfoy walked back into the sitting room, staring at the odd couple of teenagers curiously, her black dress flowing behind her. “Have you two bonded yet?”

“Bonded?” Ember asked appalled. We were supposed to be bonding?

Narcissa had excused herself from lunch before either Ember or Draco had finished. It was painfully obvious that she wanted the two of them to get along, for reasons Ember couldn’t explain. Draco clearly had other thoughts on the matter and when he had had his fill of turkey he had left the room without so much as goodbye.

“Yes. Draco, why don’t you show Ember your room?” She suggested. She shot her son an unimpressed glare that clearly carried a double meaning between them.

“Fine, mother.” He relented with a sigh. He unceremoniously hefted Ember up with a hand on her bicep and pulled her with him. She squirmed in his grasp not being used to being manhandled in the slightest. His long fingers were digging into her flesh uncomfortably and she desperately wanted to demand that he let her go but found that she didn’t have the courage.

He dragged her behind him up the staircase. Her feet stumbled over the steps and she practically had to skip to keep up with his long strides as he led her down the opposite way from where Ember’s bedroom occupied. She breathed an unconscious sigh of relief in knowing that a house length separated their rooms.

When the pair reached his door, he dropped her arm and slipped inside before closing the door behind him. Her jaw dropped at the rude gesture mildly wondering what the point in lugging her body across that house was. She began to hear clattering and cursing from behind the wooden door and her shoulders relaxed. He’s probably just cleaning his room.

Only when he opened the door a minute later and gestured her inside, his room was remarkably tidy; far too tidy for a quick cleansing of the room to have accomplished anything. It was a strange reaction to be sure, but it was exceptionally low on the growing list of strange she had experienced that day thus far.

His room contained nothing special. A rosewood bed with a plain gray duvet sat in the middle of the far wall a door on either side of it. A large matching chest of drawers was pushed the far corner and an antique desk was beside the main door. The deep green of the walls was the only thing that brought the room to life besides a few books and stationary sat upon the furniture.

“W-Where do you go to school?” Ember asked shyly, trying to start a conversation so that his eyes might drift from her.

He smirked again as he sat himself on his desk chair, teetering on only two legs, and watched her take in his room. He quickly debated on whether it would be more beneficial to make up some lie or to tell her the truth. He might as well live a little while he could. “I go to Hogwarts.”

A flare of recognition signaled in her brain before it was quickly snuffed out. It sounded so familiar, as if she had heard the name once upon a dream. The logic won out amongst the unsure thoughts of past dreams, when she realized that she had not truly heard of the school. “I’ve never heard of Hogwarts. Is it a boarding school?”

He chuckled lightly, having never been in a conversation with someone who knew nothing about Hogwarts. Ember smiled at the sound of his laughter but quickly turned to look out his window to avoid being caught. His window looked out onto the back of the property were there were acres long of freshly mowed grass as far as she could see. It was plain except for what looked to be a garden in the lower corner near the house.

“Yes, it is.” He answered.

She looked around the room again to keep herself from gazing at him. “I thought I had heard of all the boarding schools.”

Flashing frustration griped Draco. “Well you must have overlooked it.” He hissed, setting all four legs of his chair on the floor with a defining thud.

She flinched at the turn of his tone. “I must have,” She admitted in a small voice, still trying to distract herself from his face. She wanted to hasten away from this manor and its rude boy with the blue eyes, but she hadn’t been raised to act so impulsively and thus she continued her half-hearted inspection of his room.

She was trailing along the spines of the row of books that sat on top of his dresser when she saw something vaguely familiar resting before them. It was a long slick piece of black wood that captured her gaze and, against her better judgement, she picked it up and marveled over it. “Are you interested in the theory of magic?” She asked.

Draco, who had been opening and closing his desk drawer trying to decide when the piece of uncooperative furniture had started getting stuck, immediately turned his attention back to the brunette, wondering what could have provoked her into talking about magic. He was positive that he had hidden all the evidence that he was in fact a wizard.

When he saw what she was holding, he rushed to her side and ripped it from her delicate finger tips, feeling anxiety clutch at his heart. “You don’t touch this ever.” He insisted, glaring down her with untrustworthy eyes.

She quickly pulled her hands away and clasped them behind her back, frightened by the look in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” She whispered sincerely.

His eyes softened a little as she began to nervously bite at her bottom lip. He was supposed to be making her feel at home. Hell, she was home- she just didn’t know it yet. He took pity on her honest and innocent eyes. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t know what she had gotten herself into.

“Theory.” He scoffed, amusedly, before pocketing his wand.

“Well…um, are you?” She asked hesitantly. She did not want to over step another boundary any time soon.

“Oh, definitely” He grinned.

“Like witches and wizards?” She clarified. For some reason, she couldn’t believe that they would share something in common so easily.

His grin widened as he leaned an elbow on his dresser. “Oh I’m especially interested in witches.”

She eyed him suspiciously, knowing that his inflection meant that his words had more than one meaning. He returned her gaze with a curious one of his own. His eyes seemed to penetrate through hers, causing a shiver to run down her spine. “Are you?” He asked her.

Gaining what little courage she had, she exited his room and began to walk down the hallway back towards her room. His brows furrowed together as an exasperated breath left his mouth. Why had she just left? He quickly scrambled out of his room and followed her back to hers.

By the time he walked through her doorway she was ruffling through a four-tiered book shelf in the corner of her room. She was ripping countless books off the shelves and tossing them on to her light-yellow duvet. 

He hadn’t taken the time look at her room when his mother had conjured it the night before and so he took the opportunity now. He dare say it was a more austere room than his. It had a simple bed, with a simple matching nightstand, book case, and wardrobe. She had a trunk not unlike his own resting at the foot of her bed and a cushioned windowsill adorned with pale yellow curtains. There were no embellishments, no personal mementos; the rows of books the only possessions to give an inkling into her personality.

He walked to her bed, realizing that she wasn’t verbally going to answer his question, and picked up a book entitled The Witches of Were. The book itself was falling apart at the seams and the cover had a sickle sized hole in it. He idly flipped through its contents noticing that it was a work of fiction. The other books on top of her bed were much the same. “I see you read up on magic,” He remarked while gazing down at a list of unreal spells.

She shrugged as she tossed two more books. “It’s a certain pastime of mine that I have accumulated over the years. My parents gave me my first book. You could say they encouraged my fascination.”

Draco held back a scoff. Of course, her parents would have given her a book about magic. He let the book in his fingers fall back to the bed with a bounce as his eyes glued to a specific book that stood out amongst the rest. He picked the book up robotically wondering why she had it.

“That’s the book they gave me actually.” She said laughing awkwardly. She couldn’t understand why he was so interested in that particular book. “It’s really quite stupid actually. It doesn’t have a story line; it just talks about spells and methods…”

He turned abruptly and walked back through her door, taking the book with him. Ember followed him curiously until they arrived back at his room. He opened the door to his closet and pushed clothes and old boxes aside before he reached one of his old school trunks. He unlatched it and began searching through old novelties and books that he hadn’t seen in years, before coming upon the book he was looking for.

He walked back out of the closet with peculiar look on his face. He compared the two books, weighing them back and forth. As he thought, they were identical, and soon Ember recognized the similarity.

“Wow, I’ve never met another person who had a book about magic before.” She whispered as she walked closer to examine the books both labelled Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger.

“This is from first year.” He muttered curiously. Perhaps it made since that her parents would give her a standard first year book. When he thought about it the oddity seemed to wear off of the situation.

“First year?” Ember questioned.

Her voice distracted his thoughts. He looked back up to her skeptical eyes and quickly backtracked, “Oh, never mind. I have a ton of these books.” He escaped back into his closet to his old trunk and brought out a large handful of first year texts. “You can read them if you want. I don’t have any use of them anymore.” Draco carefully handed them to her, wary of if her thin arms could hold their weight.

She gave him a warm smile, the first true smile since she arrived, and it brightened her face considerably. “Thank you!”

He only nodded thoughtfully. It was rather sad how his simple, almost thoughtless, gesture brought such radiant warmth to her face. Then he noticed her arms had begun to shake under the weight of the books. He grabbed a few of them and began to make the trek back across the house to her room.

He placed them on her bed and watched her hobble her way in behind him and place her own stack beside his. She nonchalantly rubbed at her wrists and he felt a twinge of guilt. She’s practically a twig. I should have carried all of them.

She gave him another awkward smile before beginning to examine the titles of the books she was now borrowing. He studied her for a long moment and sat himself on her bed. She gave him a hesitant look but made no comment.

He had figured that the girl he had heard about for years now would have either waltzed in like she owned the place with oozing confidence and a fair amount of swagger or she would have detested the situation and therefore detest him. She wasn’t like either of those. She was painfully shy, politely concealed, and unmistakably curious. He had never known another girl like her, not that he knew many girls besides the small sampling he interacted with at Hogwarts. Ember was nothing like Parkinson, Bulstrode, or even Granger. She was so plain that it bordered on unsettling and that in itself began to fascinate the boy.

He had expected her to be like any other squib he had come across. Usually when a child from a wizarding family grew up without magical abilities they still grew up around magic, she was obviously an exception. But why? Why would her parents, two pureblood wizards, downgrade themselves to mere muggles and hide her heritage from her? What he wouldn’t have gave to have been there when her parents had dropped her off.

Her knowledge, or lack thereof, of magic did not present such an obstacle though. Mother said all would be revealed to her when the time was right. That it was better that she gets comfortable before her world changed, he reminded himself as she began to walk towards the window seat. If anything, she was a miracle to what she could have been. This whole thing was looking to be easier than he anticipated. 

He noticed that she shied away from him whenever he got too close, how her eyes would rarely meet his own. She was perfectly obedient and he planned to exploit that for his own gain. Maybe if she could stay silent in the background, only a pretty figure in his life, he would be able to find a way out of this. The thought was desperately hopeful, especially considering that the other shoe had yet to drop, but he clung to it nonetheless.

“When do you go back to school?” She asked looking out the window and wondering when the summer would be over and she would be able to go home.

Draco blinked out of his stressing thoughts and cleared his throat. “September first. When would- do…When do you return to yours?” He asked with a shake of his head. He unfortunately was left by the wills of others to keep up this meddlesome charade.

“August twenty-third.” She replied before letting out a sigh. That was over two months from now, she thought sadly.

He nodded his head and mindlessly fingered through A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration. By the end of the summer she would know that she would never return to her school.


	3. Mingled Consequences

“Sometimes I think it’s getting better and then it gets much worse. Is it part of the process? Well, Jesus Christ, it hurts.”  
-Florence+the Machine, Big God

Ember sat under the covers in her bed reading Magical Theory underneath candle light and the pale moon. She had turned in early after an uncomfortable dinner. The day had seemed to stretch on for miles and despite the added stress as the hours passed she couldn’t seem to beckon sleep to take her.

Dinner with Narcissa and Draco was filled with restless silence. Narcissa had supplied enough useless questions throughout the meal to prove that she was forcefully avoiding the innate awkwardness of the situation. She sat proudly in the right-hand seat to the empty head of the table nibbling demurely around an expensive silver place setting. Her eyes avoided the empty place beside her, settling her gaze on a glowering Draco and a politely unresponsive Ember instead.

She kept waiting for Mr. Malfoy to walk through the double doors into the dining room and perhaps invigorate their boring meal, but he never did. In fact, she got the feeling that he didn’t even live here. He obviously hadn’t died considering her own father had mentioned him before leaving. Neither of her two hosts had mentioned the man, giving her the impression that it was not a subject that she should casually bring up over pigeon pie.

After his pigeon pie had grown cold and his crystal glass of wine had been emptied, twice, Draco had fled from the room and Ember didn’t see him for the rest of the night. Narcissa had apologized after the abrasive exit of her son, but Ember hadn’t minded his departure.

She was especially skittish under his presence. His eyes were strong and the features of his face smoothed over with glowering indifference. He treated her with the patience of a child and written her off as naïve or simply stupid from the very first conversation. She was far from stupid and recognized that as much as she did not want to be stuck amongst these strangers, he did not want her in his house perhaps even more. It stung to be declared unwanted at first glance, but it was nothing she was unaccustomed to.

She spent the rest of the night in her overly familiar room buried into the theories of magic. It gave her a small peace of mind. For as long as she could remember, she had consumed her dinner in a hushed environment before retreating to her room where she would read until her eyes succumbed to sleep. It was oddly comforting to know that she wouldn’t have to politely manner her way through forced meals.

She sighed deeply before closing the book, placing it on her night stand, and blowing out the candles’ fire. She slid further beneath her covers and stared at the rounded moon. Out here, in the middle of possibly thousands of acres, she could see a full sky of stars winking back at her. The beautiful moon and stars were friends to be sure, but even they disappeared too.

~

The sun shining from a different angle than she was use to was the reason Ember had slept in so late. When her eyes had blearily opened, she had to blink several times before she remembered why her room was just slightly off. She took a deep breath, taking a long moment to come to terms with the predicament she had foolishly hoped had all been a far-off dream.

She sluggishly began her day. She went through her normal routine. She washed her face and brushed her teeth. She made her bed and made sure that her room was spotless. Robotically, she dressed in her most comforting cyan dress and slipped into her brown sandals.

After her routine came to a conclusion, she sat dumbly on her window seat. She wasn’t sure what the procedure for her day was supposed to be and without some sort of guide she bit her lip with anxiety. She let herself drift into mindless nervous what-ifs before her stomach growled rambunctiously and sealed her fate.

Her anxiety was unnecessary when she opened her door to find a silver platter with toast, jam, sausage, and eggs. She drew her hair behind her ear and bent down to pick up the tray, wondering how long it had waited for her. She placed the breakfast on the window seat before noticing a note resting against a glass of juice. She opened it curiously and read over it quickly.

Dear Ember,  
I hope you had a good night’s sleep. Draco and I have gone out for a bit of shopping. We’ll return for lunch.  
-Narcissa

Ember’s posture deflated as she reached for a piece of toast. What was she supposed to do now? What was she supposed to do for the rest of the summer? No one had left her any instructions. She didn’t work very well without instructions. She never had to; her parents had always made her choices for her.

She slowly finished her late breakfast while looking out at the never-ending grounds. She thought that she could see gates over the fields far-off in the distance, but she couldn’t be sure. Uneasily, she finished her meal with the pink juice. It was tart on her tongue and it took her a moment to realize that it was pomegranate juice and was quickly reminded that she detested pomegranates.

When the novelty of staring out the window wore off and the rows of books refused to call her name, she ventured out of her room. She took quiet steps down the hallway, leery that someone besides Narcissa and Draco might be in the expansive house.

Her self-guided tour led her downstairs to the rooms she had already visited before she reached a small atrium on the left side of the manor. It presented a brief respite from the dreariness of the house. It’s ceiling was high with shimmering glass kissing the blue sky. There was a gothic black fountain protruding from the marble floor in the shape of a regal dragon. Inside vibrant colorful koi fish swam leisurely causing small ripples and bubbles to break the surface of the water.

The room crept life into the lifeless house that held her captive. It was beautiful in its contrast and brought a rare smile to Ember’s face. She spent nearly an hour watching the fish swim in circles letting the splashing of the water drown out her worried thoughts.

When she continued her exploration down protruding hallways it was with a lighter heart. The atrium sure was a breath of fresh air and drastic compared to the dark ornaments that adorned the walls and halls of the manor. At the far end of the house she found an out-of-place door; opened. Curiously, she approached the oddity, opening the door wider to reveal a deep staircase.  
She frowned into the darkness and against her better judgement descended the stairs apprehensively. It was dark and she was about to climb back into the light before the ceiling cramped down into an awkward landing. Once past the landing, light began to trickle onto the stairs, and once she was far enough down she could see where the light was coming from. A barred door was at the bottom of the staircase.

Her fingers grasped the bars, rattling them, to reveal that the door was in fact locked; caging the dungeon. It looked like an endless catacomb; no furniture or omnipresent ornaments to be found. Light trickled in from far off windows that were also barred, giving the room just a glimpse of unattainable freedom. 

Ember heard deep rasps float to her ears, frightening her, before she realized that she was gasping. She knew there was something wrong about her hosts; something off that her intuition screamed to her. Why did one need a personal dungeon in their home unless they were corrupt people? She did not want to be around to find out.

She stumbled back up the stairs, trying to take two at a time while also keeping her rapid breathing under control. She was a mouse in the viper’s den and panic pricked at her heels. She ran back down the halls in a whirl of barely capped hysteria.

Her instincts had taken over. She had to flee this place. A heavy weight was finally pressed upon her world and she knew deep in her belly that if she didn’t escape the shadow of the manor then nothing good would come to her. So she pushed her feet faster, turning corners haphazardly, trying to recall the path to the front door.

She managed to turn a corner, back into the atrium, when she ran into a hard figure. Hands grasped her arms as she bounced back from the hard body to look up into the sky blue eyes she was recently acquainted with. 

“What are you doing?” Draco asked her guardedly. One brow was arched quizzically as he held her at arm’s length.

Her heart beat fluttered violently in her chest. His hands on her arms anchored her to the house like roots grasping for soil. She shivered underneath his suspicious gaze and quickly struggled to spread distance between them. His grip was unrelenting.

“Let me go!” She cried as his grip only grew tighter with her grappling.

Her wide eyes only served to punctuate her alarm. Draco pursed his lips, wondering why he was fighting against her in the first place. He shrugged casually before letting his arms fall to his side.  
She stared up at him with heaving breaths for a moment before darting past him.

He watched her go with undisclosed curiosity. They had only been gone for a few hours, what had pierced through her to cause such a panic? He didn’t really care if she ran away. She wouldn’t get far and if by some chance she did, it would only resolve his own problem.

~

Ember had managed to escape the house through one of the back doors that led to the back lawn. She was kind of surprised that she was able to leave the house without another obstacle besides a brief run in with Draco. His cruel eyes haunted her and pushed her harder from the house.

The lawn was expansive just as she had seen high above in the upstairs windows and it took her a long time before she was able to slip into the wood on the far east of the property. The trees flashed past her as her feet pounded into the ground until there was nothing but a blur of brown and green. 

The instinctual need for self-preservation clouded her mind with nothing but a visceral need to put as much distance from herself and the Malfoys as possible. She wasn’t thinking about what she would do when she was away from the estate or where she would go.

She came to a brief pause as through the thicket of trees she saw the gate that closed in the property. Her breaths came out in vicious pants as she hunched over with her hands on her knees.  
She had been sold off to wicked strangers by her no-good parents. No, she thought with a stubborn shake of her head, I don’t mean that. She loved her parents. Surely if they had known their friends were the type to keep dungeons underground they wouldn’t have left her there, right?

It didn’t matter, she decided. All that mattered right now was to get off the property. She needed to get somewhere safe and she knew deep in her soul, as the thin hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention, that Malfoy Manor would never be safe.

~

It was getting into the late hours of the night when Narcissa toed herself into Draco’s room. “Draco?” She asked from the doorway.

“Come in,” He mumbled. He had spent the past three hours staring at the same piece of parchment waiting for his transfiguration essay to write itself. He could feel his eyes ready to protest from undue stress.

His mother stepped into the room with a bothered frown. “Dear, have you seen Ember? She’s not in her room…and she didn’t show up for lunch.”

His stressed features smoothed in guilty recognition. “Um…” He mumbled, scratching at the back of his head. He honestly hadn’t given the girl another thought after she had crashed into him. “I think she sort of…ran away.” He whispered with a cringe already anticipating his mother’s response.

Her eyes turned to slits as her grasp on his door handle shook the door. “What do you mean? How do you know?” She asked with tempered displeasure.

He slowly turned in his chair, to give her his full attention, with his tongue swiping at the corner of his mouth nervously. “She ran into me when we got home. Then she ran from me. I heard the back door shut and I went upstairs.” He shrugged avoiding his mother’s boiling eyes.

“Draco!” She hissed, “You very well know what she most likely encountered!” 

“Yes mother I know!” He spat out petulantly. He rolled his eyes in frustration while fidgeting with his wand on the desk in front of him. 

Narcissa sighed deeply as she stared at her only son with sympathetic eyes. She understood that what had been so easy for him to neglect the past two years was now unavoidable, undismissible. She approached him with the remains of her once tender heart that knew all too well the price you pay for stability. “This needs to work, honey. We promised them and we cannot go back on our word.”

He let out a defeated sigh. He hated when his mother used that empathetic and slightly pleading tone that could manipulate him into doing anything. “I know,” He replied sourly, rubbing his temples.

She placed a sweet kiss to the top of his head, knowing that she had weakened his resentment- if only for the moment. “Now, go find her and make sure she is well.” Her words were punctuated with an abrasive smile and a sleek exit.

Draco growled, his fist tightening over his wand. The girl was causing complications in his entire life. He wasn’t use to being responsible for someone else and his patience was wearing thin and it was only the first day. Sure, perhaps he should have dealt with the situation with a bit more of a delicate hand and saved himself the headache, but she desperately needed a reality check if they were to succeed in their parents’ selfish plans.

He pushed his chair back with a resounding scratch of wood on wood before walking out his door and ultimately out into the creeping night.

~

It took Ember a long hour of walking with sore legs to reach the gate. It was overbearingly tall and just as disconcerting as it had been the day before. She wondered idly if she would be able to slide her body between the divots of the bars. It would be nearly impossible for her to climb over and the ground was far too dry to present the thought of digging her way underneath. It seemed like her plans were a fools’ wish because just as her thin shoulder began to slip through the space between the bars an electric current shot through her.

It was endless in its intensity, shuddering through her body like a live wire. She shot back instinctually, the current leaving her, and grabbed her shoulder with a heady gasp. Why in the world was their estate so defended? Was it to keep something out? Or was it to keep me in? She paled at the thought and all logic abandoned her as she tried to slip through the gate again only to be surrounded by lightning.

Fear is a powerful thing and when fear is so prevalent and demanding all logic has a way of leaving the mind. This was such a case as Ember desperately, or stubbornly, kept trying to break through the final barrier that separated her from the secured freedom she sought. 

The, now self-inflicted, pain was rendering her body into a useless conductor. Her face wet with tears, her throat sore from screams, her limbs trembling with aftershocks, she fell to the ground in a heap of blue. The moon her only witness.

~

Draco looked down at the fallen girl for several minutes. His eyes were tired slits glaring at her through the light of the lantern in his right hand. He grinded his teeth at the sight of long burns trailing her arms. 

He nudged her body with his foot. Her limp body made no movement. The hair covering her face pushed away in the gust of her breaths but otherwise she was still as a stone. He nudged her once more, earning a tiny groan. He sighed, rolling his eyes up at the stars, before bending down and placing her small frame in his arms. It was a bit awkward at first to balance her body against his chest, supporting her back and under her knees, while also holding the lantern but he managed easily enough.

He was nearly halfway back to the mansion when Ember’s eyes blinked blearily up at him. She could only see the set of his jaw as his pale skin glowed underneath the moonlight that trickled through the canopy of trees, but she needed nothing else to know who held her. She glared up at him with all the might she could muster in her tired body. She knew it was most likely pointless to struggle away from him, but he had let her go before and maybe he would show her the same regard now.

Draco came to an abrupt stop as she began to wiggle pitifully in his arms and held her close to his chest in an attempt to cease her movements. “Stop moving you stupid squib.” He mumbled with frustration.

Ember froze as his eyes flashed irritatingly down at her. She huffed with a stiff pout, “Why do you keep insulting me?” 

He began to trek forward again, ignoring her questioning eyes. He wouldn’t let her know the answer. He wouldn’t let her know that it was much easier to hate her and what she represented than to channel his anger to his own family. It wasn’t fair to her, but he couldn’t deal with the repercussions of the alternative.

That, he thought, and life just isn’t fair.

~

Draco tore in through the door and up to Ember’s room quickly. The sooner he got her in her bed and recovering, the sooner he could get back to his half-finished essay.  
He placed her against her pillows softly before disappearing into her connecting washroom, only to walk back in with a glass of water and a damp flannel a moment later. He set the glass on the night stand, after turning on the lamp, and sat down beside her on the edge of the bed.

Her eyes, that were entirely unfocused, squinted at the invasion of light and remained closed as he gingerly wiped the cloth over her sweaty face, brushing her hair out of her face in the process. His ministrations, while forced, felt nice against her clammy skin. She kept her eyes shut to stop the world from spinning. The cloth trailed down her arms methodically as he silently and carefully washed the skin around her burns. They were nothing serious, but they proved that she had tried her very hardest to escape from them. 

Draco felt a strange twinge in his chest and he gazed at her softer than he would have liked. She resembled a broken doll forgotten in the rain. He brushed her bruised skin lightly with his fingers. Her nearly flawless skin would more than likely scar and he gulped guiltily at the knowledge that he could have stopped it. 

He took a once over at her blue dress that now had various singed holes. Enough cloth remained intact to cover her modesty, but it was just another sign of how hard she had tried to getaway. He took another look at her relaxed face and noticed her severely chapped lips. 

He reached for the glass of water with one hand and cupped the back of her neck, tilting her head forward, with the other. He brought the glass to her lips and urged her to drink the cooling liquid. She took a few sips before her eyes slid open slightly.

Her lips pushed against the glass as her eyes focused on the boy in front of her. He was all she could see; all she could feel. His face hunched over hers, hand resting at the nape of her neck, fingers tangling at the small hairs there. His close proximity flared her anxiety to life. With a burst of shocked adrenaline, she pushed him away from her frantically, causing the glass of water to tumble from his fingers, soaking her and her bedding, before crashing on the ground and shattering.

She scrambled away from him until she fell from the unoccupied side of her bed and fearfully clambered until her back met the wall. Ember had never been touched by someone, other than family members, of the opposite sex before. Her mind chose to ignore that fact until his face and body were so overwhelmingly close to hers that it had blocked anything except for him.  
She was a bundle of anxious nerves when it came to dealing with the opposite sex and this sudden gesture of good-will from him frightened her. It took a moment before his vicious glare registered and all that she had been running away from became visible.

Draco stood precipitously. “Don’t want my help? Fine.” He hissed through gritted teeth. He stomped out of her room and slammed the door so hard behind him that the walls seemed to rattle.  
And for the first time since her parents had offered her up to play house guest all summer, Ember cried. She curled herself into a small ball, despite her ligaments protests, and shivered in the corner of her room.

She would never understand Draco. How could he treat her like the dirt underneath his shoes one moment only to take care of her the next? His mood swings were giving her whiplash. She thought she was able to read people fairly well, but he was entirely closed off and something forbidden to her.

She couldn’t find the energy to summon herself back on the bed and cried herself to sleep laying uncomfortably on the cold floor.

~

Before Narcissa retired to her lonely bed, she decided that it would be for the best that she check to make sure that Draco had followed her request and Ember was safely tucked into her bed. She had not expected to find Ember’s bed empty, shattered glass on the side of one bed, and an unconscious girl on the other.

She fell to her knees beside the girl and let her eyes roam over the damage that was Ember. Her wand was out immediately, her lips spitting out incantations that would soothe the burns. The frail girl was but a lifeless figure, laying with tear stained cheeks in a puddle of a ruined dress. 

Once Narcissa had eased her ailments and levitated her back into the safety of her bed, she marched to her son’s room.

Without knocking, she barged through the door with a strangled cry, “Draco Malfoy I-” but the words died on her lips. He was not in his room and one of his windows was left wide open, letting a cool summer’s breeze caress her cheek.

~

Narcissa strode into her son’s room at half past eight with hard eyes and lips drawn down in a disappointed frown. She walked over to the window, that had been closed only hours before, and ripped open the drapes, letting the early morning sun shine right onto the bed. 

Draco groaned at the sudden blinding intrusion and buried his face in one of the feather down pillows.

Narcissa took in her sleepy boy with an unamused expression and clasped her hands in front of her waist pointedly. “Draco, would you care to explain why I found Ember lying on the ground alone last night? Or would you like to explain why I found that you have gone off again, when I specifically told you that you were no longer allowed to leave once she arrived, first?”

His hands clasped the top of his pillow and smushed it down on his ears in an attempt to drown out his mother’s irritating voice. He had been out especially late the night before and had the beginnings of a wicked hangover to thank for it. 

“Answer me!” She seethed without patience. 

It took him a moment to comprehend who Ember was and what had even happened last night before he had taken his broom to Goyle’s. He lazily flipped over to his back, resurfacing from the pillow, but kept his eyes closed in the hopes that he would be allowed to return to the nice dreamless sleep he was having. “I found her like that Mum. She refused my help.” He mumbled.

“Well then,” She began as she glided back towards his door, “You will be waiting on her today.”

He shot up in his bed, suddenly wide awake, and gaped at his mother. “I will what?”

Narcissa turned, with one hand on the door knob, and glanced over at her sons disheveled hair with great irritation. “You heard me,” was her eloquent response.

“I will not!” He exclaimed stubbornly. He climbed off of his bed and towered over his mother’s small figure in an attempt to intimidate her as he had seen his father do before.

She barely managed to not roll her eyes at her son’s weak impersonation of his father. She looked up at him with a stern face. “She will be your responsibility come August, and you better well be able to take care of her by then! It is your own fault she is in this state anyway.”

“I didn’t ask for her to become my responsibility” He hissed through clenched teeth.

Narcissa softened. “I know. Be that as it may, she will be. So how about you make amends and do as I tell you?” She patted Draco’s arm in a motherly gesture before closing the door behind her.  
He growled in frustration, falling back onto his bed with a thud. 

~

Ember woke slowly. The kind where your subconscious takes pity on you and allows you to easily fall back asleep after every attempt to wake. She curled on her side with disapproving limbs and rubbed at her over-exhausted eyes. She let out a little yawn and winced at the sandpaper feel of her throat. I’d kill for some water, she thought and immediately reached out blindly for the glass of water that she always kept on her nightstand. When her hand only met air, she regrettably remembered the night before and how the glass was now laying on her floor- destroyed.

She frowned and, in a rush of hindsight, scolded herself for her foolish behavior. She was stupid to believe that she would be able to run away from this place. Even if she had managed to leave the estate, she had nowhere to go. She groaned at the reminder of how irrational she was to have continued to injure herself over and over again. And why? There are a hundred reasonable explanations for them to have a dungeon. Most old mansions like this probably had them from old revolutionary days.

She cringed. She couldn’t take back what she had done as much as she couldn’t change the instinctual feeling of being unsafe in the house, but it was foolish to run away. Narcissa had been nothing but welcoming and Draco, though abrasive and entirely unwelcoming, hadn’t wished her any ill-will.

Oh, god, she mentally berated herself. Her parents would be so disappointed with how she had jumped to conclusions and spat on the hospitality of their friends.

A knock suddenly sounded from the door, causing her heart to freeze, and before she could even clear her throat to answer, Draco strutted in through the doorway.

He was dressed in a simple pair of green sweatpants and a heather grey shirt and he stopped abruptly when he realized that Ember was actually awake and staring at him with startled eyes this time. He coughed awkwardly, not expecting her to be awake when the past four times he checked on her she was not, “How are you feeling?” He asked awkwardly.

“Sore.” She managed to squeak out from her dry mouth.

He casually sat on the edge of her bed, barely taking notice to her immediate discomfort. “Well you shouldn’t have tried to run away.”

Her recent humiliation is what finally broke their eye contact as she began to pick at a loose thread. “I’m sorry.” She whispered with twisted remorse.

He tutted at her with a halfhearted smirk causing her pale cheeks to flood with pink. “You should be lucky that all you are is sore. When I found you, you resembled a half dead lamb.”  
Her lips managed to pull into an even deeper frown. “Why do you even have an electric fence?”

He swallowed his laughter at her quick assumption with twitching lips and shrugged at her light scowl. “Security measures.” 

Her brows pulled together, her scowl deepening at his cavalier tone. Their conversation quickly dribbled to a discomforting silence. Draco quickly stood up from her bed and looked down at her with an expectant expression. “Do you need anything?” He asked, the words bruising his pride. 

“Well, um…” She mumbled. She wanted water desperately, but she always had issues with asking for anything. It probably stemmed from the fact that her parents made her fend for herself for most everything. It didn’t help that Draco deeply intimidated her on a good day and looked as if he was about to spout fire at her.

He grunted, grinding his teeth together, and hissed, “Spit it out!”

She flinched at his tone. Never mind the need for water, she would happily remain parched if it meant that he would leave her alone. “Never mind,” She muttered, avoiding his eyes.

Draco took a deep breath, over exaggeratedly rolling his eyes, grasping tightly at his thinning patience. “What do you need?” He asked again with only a slightly softer tone.

Ember looked up at him from under her full lashes and shook her head. “Nothing,” she whispered obstinately. Draco’s mouth parted slightly without his consent at the bold green of her doe eyes staring up at him from a dark curtain of lashes. Did she have to have the most innocent, enticing, eyes?

Her eyes rendered him motionless. He caught her sneaking glances at the door behind him and he stumbled to recover from the random unwanted bought of attraction. “Right…” He mumbled to himself, turning on his heel and leaving the small girl to the comfort of her bed.

~

Ember recovered from her unwise escape attempt within a few days. Bruises faded and her breaths came easier when nothing else suspicious had happened. She tried to keep herself as occupied as possible by reading the books Draco had given her. She kept to her room mostly and when her own four walls began to make her feel claustrophobic, she would venture to the first floor. She had tried to evade the pretentious boy at all costs, but Narcissa clearly had other plans. She constantly forced them together in what Ember assumed was an attempt for them to form a friendship.  
It wasn’t that she didn’t like Draco. She found him rather interesting to observe actually. She had never really had any interactions with boys before and Draco had a certain charisma that oozed a cheekier disposition than that of his mother. He was rather aloof when they were around each other, with an ease that challenged the most professional of models. He made her uncomfortable though, and whether he acknowledged her distressed countenance or not, with his overexposed swagger, unacceptable language, and superior outlook.

She became a blushing idiot around him. He constantly regarded her as if she was on the outside of some universal joke, casting her questions aside with remarks of her incompetence. It was so casually cruel that it caused her to feel insignificant underneath his eyes and anxious in his company. 

Today had been unthinkably kind to her as Draco hadn’t shown up for breakfast. Narcissa had brushed his absence off with an excuse that he had been up late the night before. Ember wasn’t one to question it though, simply relieved to have a brief respite from the boy.

She had spent the morning reading Magical Theory. When lunch rolled around, and Draco still hadn’t shown his face, Narcissa offered to entertain her for the afternoon. It was with great excitement that Ember followed Narcissa out the back door.

The gardens were vast and hidden behind tall hedges on the west side of the back lawn. It was entirely easy to overlook and was honestly surprising when the hedges revealed a flourishing garden. There must have been hundreds of different types of flowers, from gardenias to marigolds and azaleas, but it was the dahlias that Narcissa went straight towards.

She stroked the petals lovingly with a smile, the first true smile Ember had seen from her, and sat down on the bench near them. She patted the empty spot next to her and Ember took the invitation kindly. The woman was silent as she crossed one elegant leg over the other and stared out at her garden.

Ember waited impatiently for her host to strike up a conversation but as moments passed and she inhaled the rousing scent of fresh florals she felt at ease in the silence. It was quite refreshing actually, to be able to enjoy the silence with company without the worries of civilized questionnaires’. 

As the minutes passed, Narcissa rejuvenated in the depths of the fresh flowers with the girl whose future she helped create. She pursed her lips with the consequences of past choices sat politely next to her. She grabbed one of Ember’s hands in both of hers and held it in her lap, stroking the back of her hand fondly. “Do you like the flowers, Ember?”

“They’re beautiful.” She complimented, only slightly wishing she still had control of her own hand.

“I’ve wanted to add another section for years,” She admitted idly inclining her head to the shady area on the far left, “but I couldn’t quite decide what I would like to do with it. You see nothing will grow because it is always cast in the shadows of the hedges.”

“I’m sure there are plants that can grow without much sunlight.”

Narcissa smiled secretly. “Perhaps you’re right. Maybe it’s unfair to write it off.”

~

All in all, her stay at the manor remained rather manageable. It wasn’t until late on the twenty fifth night since her arrival that she encountered another disturbing sight. Unlike the dungeons that still remained ambiguous, this sight demanded an explanation that would begin to unravel the very fabric that was Ember’s life.

She had gotten up out of her bed quietly, dressed in her dressing gown and silently made her way through the house. The house was more frightening when the only light was the moon. The paranoia that someone would jump out of one of the many rooms and kill her on the spot kept her company. 

She stealthily stepped down the stairs, careful not to create any creak or groan that would disturb the other two occupants, before sneaking into the room hidden behind the large dining table assuming it to be the kitchens. The door swung closed behind her, exposing the only room that was still lit in the manor. 

Her breath caught in the back of her throat as her entrance caught the attention of several small bodies. They had stopped at her intrusion, frozen in the middle of homely tasks. Standing around the kitchen were tiny three-foot-tall creatures with thin appendages, oversized heads, and flappy pointed ears; clad only in stained patches of cloth. They were unlike anything Ember had ever seen, ugly and unreal, and the only thing that occurred to her as she stood paralyzed by her disturbing audience was to scream.

And scream she did.


	4. So, Wizards?

“Wanna believe, wanna believe, that you don’t have a bad bone in your body. But the bruises on your ego make you go wild”  
-Be Kind, Halsey

Ember’s alarmed scream echoed through the house, jolting it awake. The creatures scurried together, dropping pots, pans, and rags to the floor in the process, their massive eyes widened in fright.

She backed into a table causing several utensils to topple over and clatter to the floor. Gripping the edge with shaking fingers, she couldn’t take her eyes off the unbelievable.

Too quick for a human, Narcissa burst through the door with her dressing robe thrown hastily on, her blue night gown peeking through. Her hair was down and inelegantly framing her face. Draco, but a moment behind his mother, rushed into the room with gasping breaths. His eyes electric, his clothes wrinkled, hair tousled in a way Ember would have described as adorable were her brain not short-circuiting. Narcissa’s eyes evaluated the situation with ease before turning to the petrified girl. Draco’s, on the other hand, fled to Ember at first sight. 

“W-What are they?” Ember managed to stutter out.

Draco’s sigh filled the room of tension with his usual exasperation.

Narcissa, ignoring her son, hesitantly walked toward Ember, who scrambled away until she had literally backed herself into a corner. The soft wood at her back helped support her shaking knees and insured that nothing else would be able to sneak up on her.

“They’re…” Narcissa trailed off. Her mind scrambled to find a sufficient excuse to silence the girl and delay the inevitable. She glanced back to the house elves that were now huddled together; their expressions anticipating the worst from their master.

A high-pitched squeak sounded from the small group causing Ember to flinch and Narcissa to wince. “Oh shut up,” Draco barked dramatically, before looking back toward the trembling brunette. He was leaning against a support beam with his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was a look of exhaustion but his eyes were wary and interested in where this conversation would lead.

“They’re house elves.” Narcissa finally explained. There would be no back tracking; there was no reasonable way to explain away the existence of these magical creatures short of obliviation. 

“Elves?” Ember whispered perplexed. She looked back to the disconcerting elves with scrutinizing eyes. Elves were supposed to be things of fairytales not maids in mansions cleaning the kitchens.

“Yes, bloody elves.” Draco drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Draco!” Narcissa hissed with a disapproving glare.

Ember’s green eyes flashed to his before landing back on Narcissa’s face. “But elves…they don’t exist.” She whispered, more to herself than anything else.

The older woman sighed and clasped her soft hands around Ember’s small wrists. She gently pulled her away from the corner back to the dining room and away from the catalystic creatures. Draco begrudgingly followed.

“It is too late to be discussing this. One cannot possibly think at this hour.” She petted Ember’s hair placatingly. “We’ll talk about this in the morning, yes?”

Ember looked over her shoulder to a pursed lipped Draco before glancing back at the fabricated smile of his mother. She numbly nodded, letting the woman pull her towards the foyer and back up the staircase.

~

She got no sleep that night. Instead she laid in her bed staring at the ceiling trying to wrap her mind around whatever it was she had witnessed downstairs. She clutched at her bed sheets at the possibilities of tomorrow. Narcissa had looked positively strained as she had promised her answers in the light of day. What answers would she give? What could possibly explain the existence of elves besides pure insanity?

When the early morning rays of sun broke through her window, she thrust her covers away and got ready for the day. Her eyes felt swollen and heavy but she would have to get through the day without succumbing to exhaustion. She had a feeling that it would not be difficult with whatever she had to learn.

After dressing in a light green dress and slipping on her sandals, Ember softly opened her door and gracefully slid into the hallway. She hadn’t made it very far when she overheard voices coming from the bottom of the stairs. 

“I believe it’s time that we tell her.” Ember noticed Narcissa’s proper tone immediately and pressed herself against the wall, keeping her ears turned towards the stairs.

“She isn’t ready for any of it.” Draco disagreed stubbornly.

“What would you suggest? Especially after last night! She should know before her parents return, or worse, before the Dark Lord decides to arrive again- which could be any day now. Do you have any idea what kind of danger we could put her in if she remains unknowledgeable?”

Ember heard Draco huff. “What are her parents’ dropping this all on us for anyway?” He hissed exasperatedly. “She is their daughter! Shouldn’t they have told her when she was at least eleven if not before then!?”

“It’s complicated.” Narcissa replied with a wearied sigh.

“They have protected her, or whatever the hell it is they’ve been doing, from this for too long. She is too innocent, too naïve, for this. She won’t be able to take it.”

There was a lengthy pause as Ember held her breath.

“Is that finally some concern I see resurfacing?” Narcissa asked provokingly with great interest.

“Concern?” He asked incredulously, “Of course not!”

Narcissa hummed. “You still remember that day, don’t you?”

Ember leaned forward, hanging on every word.

“You still remember the first time you held her when the Knight’s visited. She was so small that you thought you would break her. You remember that, don’t you? You remember her laughter as the two of you played. You remember-”

“Yes, alright? I remember it!” Draco yelled causing Ember to jump. “What does it matter?” He grumbled.

“It’s time that she learned Draco. Not everything, but it’s time that she learned.”

“Time I learned what?” Ember asked from the top of the stairs no longer settling for an overheard conversation to sate her curiosity.

Both Malfoys snapped their necks to the girl. Narcissa blinked at her rapidly while Draco glanced down at his shoes, his cheeks tinged pink.

“Oh,” Narcissa straightened her back, flustered. “Ember, dear, why don’t you join us for some tea?”

“Oh don’t sugar coat it mother.” Draco said sarcastically rolling his eyes and stomping into the sitting room.

Ember hesitantly descended the stairs, repeating, “Learned what?”

“I will explain, just like I promised.” Narcissa reached out to wrap one arm delicately around her shoulders and usher her into the sitting room.

~

“You’re what?” Ember asked appalled. 

The three of them were sitting around the rounded table in the corner of the sitting room just as they had been on the first day of her arrival. Only this time, no one had touched the steaming tea before them.

“Wizards.” Narcissa repeated boldly. Draco leaned his chair back on two legs with his hands gripping the arm rest, looking thoroughly bored, and received a pointed glare from his mother.

Ember gazed at the pair skeptically. “I don’t believe you.”

Narcissa sighed before pulling out her thin wand from her pocket and swooshing it. Suddenly platters of pastries came floating in the air from the side kitchenette. They danced through the air before settling peacefully on the table.

Ember stared on in shock. Her stomach turned and she could feel the beginnings of sweat on her brow. She was going to be sick as the world turned on its axis. She looked to Draco, who seemed to be lovingly eyeing an apple crumble, still teetering on two legs. “All of those books…” She whispered knowingly.

The front legs of his chair snapped back to the floor as he reached over to steal one of the scrumptious treats. He took one of the butter knifes and began to dip it into the apple butter. “I go to a school for wizards. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” He began to spread the butter over the pastry leisurely before taking a generous bite. He hummed in appreciation.  
Narcissa gave him an unamused glare, pursing her lips at such egregious manners.

“That’s impossible.” Ember muttered, trying to wrap the idea of wizards around in her mind. Well…it certainly explained the elves. “And my parents have known you for years?” She asked Narcissa who was now magically stirring more sugar into her tea. “When did you tell them?”

Narcissa stared at her perplexed, the stirring spoon stopping mid spin. Even Draco paused in his devouring of his sweet to look at her dumfounded. 

“Ember,” She said softly, her eyes full of pity. “Your parents are wizards too.”

~

“Maybe you should talk with her…” Narcissa suggested softly. She held the curtains in one hand as she stared out at the troubled girl sat on her lawn.

“Maybe we should leave her alone.” Draco replied dryly; one arm crossed over his stomach, one arm raised so he could nibble on his finger nail. It was a horrid habit that his mother had viciously tried to break. 

He, too, stared out the window. Ember was sat on the grass. Her long brown hair blowing in the slight breeze was the only thing that separated her from a statue. She had been sat outside for the better part of an hour, claiming that she needed the air. Draco didn’t blame her.

If his parents had pulled this shit with him he would have verbally berated them before tearing down their reputation from the inside. Granted, his parents had pulled a lot of shit with him but at least they had the decency to tell him. She didn’t even know the kicker yet and he shuddered to think of her possible reaction to it.

“Maybe…” His mother sighed. She patted his shoulder before leaving the room.

He remained by the window for another ten minutes before following the advice of his mother that he had just claimed ill-advised. 

~

Ember sat cross legged on the soft grass of the Malfoy’s back lawn. After the culture shock of a lifetime, she desperately needed the fresh air and sunshine on her skin. She didn’t know what to think. She didn’t know what to feel. Would letting the festering hate for her parents grow into real resentment soothe her at all? She didn’t know if her heart could sustain such loathing.

Her entire existence had been a lie. A lie to society, and a lie to her. It was no wonder Draco treated her so unconventionally; to him, she had quite literally been a moron. She was a fifteen-year-old girl who knew nothing of her heritage or of what her life should have been. She was a girl who had been so emotionally neglected her entire life that she didn’t even know how to form relationships. She wasn’t sure she would want to be associated with her either.

So, while she couldn’t bring herself to make sense of the upturned world, she gazed up at the cumulus clouds and watched them go by. Occasionally one would resemble a woodland creature or an ambiguous object but mostly they looked like white candy floss. She had taken to ripping the grass by her feet. It started off as subconscious but she found that the incessant destruction released the pent-up aggression she had accumulated over the summer.

She heard his footsteps ruffle against the lawn, but felt too numb to demand him to leave. After all, it was his house.

He dropped down next to her, stretching his long legs out in front of him and resting on his elbows. He crossed one ankle over the other and glanced up at the sky before looking over at her. Her hair was pulled behind her ears except for a few tendrils that blew around her face. She didn’t seem to mind the annoyance, her eyes pointed perpetually to the clouds. She had chunks of torn up grass littering her lap. He winced when he realized that she was destroying the lawn.

“It’s a nice day today,” He stated casually. He wasn’t sure why he had felt the need to approach her, but then again he didn’t understand why he did half of the stuff he did nowadays. 

She glanced over at him to notice that he had dark tinted sunglasses covering his eyes. Only then did she realize that she had been squinting the entire time and that her eyes were straining. She crinkled her nose at the attempt at small talk among his overdramatic persona. “Sure,” She commented idly not wanting to be labelled a moron and rude.

He smirked before aiming his gaze back at the sky. “It’s alright to be mad at them you know.” 

“Mad at who?” Ember asked, clearly attempting to remain impassive. She focused on ripping the lawn to avoid his imposing presence.

He sighed exasperatedly. “Oh I don’t know, your parents perhaps?”

She shook her head, creating more wayward hairs in the process, “I’m not.” He arched a brow behind his glasses as she paused, pursing her lips. “Well maybe I am.” She admitted in a tiny whisper. 

“I would have thrown a Grade A tantrum.” He explained. She threw him a skeptical look. “No, really. I would have rampaged against the injustice and trashed everything in this house before letting some important officials know some very revealing secrets.” He began gesticulating wildly causing her to erupt in a fit of giggles before sighing deeply. He unknowingly grinned at her laughter.

“When did you find out?”

“That I was a wizard?” He clarified. She nodded her head, brushing her hair behind her ear again. He shrugged his shoulders, “I always knew. I grew up around magic. Besides, I would have known something was up when I started unknowingly making objects fly.” 

She felt as if she had been punched in the chest, but wasn’t quite sure what she had been expecting anyway. His statement only reminded her that she had no magic to speak of and was yet again failing in a way she hadn’t known that she could fail. “What’s a squib?” She asked, remembering the clearly derogatory name he had once called her.

Draco sighed deeply. He smoothly sat up, lifting his sunglasses to rest on his head, and bent a knee to rest his arm. He stared at her profile, wondering mildly why she was trying to hide her face from him. “A squib is someone born into a magical family that does not possess magic.”

“So, someone like me.” She clarified, swallowing thickly.

“Yeah,” He responded gloomily, “Someone like you.”

She nodded slowly, batting away the unwanted tears forming. Her parents had never been guarded around her, they had always just been ashamed of her.

A silence settled over them. One in which Ember tried to ignore him and continued her brooding. His hand began to twitch, desperately wanting to brush the hair, that kept escaping the confines of, her ear out of her face.

“Then why am I here?” She muttered. She knew that if her parents were so ashamed of her that they had hidden her from the wizarding world, that they wouldn’t have dropped her off at a wizarding family for the summer with no reason. She also knew there had to be a good reason the Malfoy’s took her in, to risk her tainting their good name.

She looked over to him expectantly and suddenly he couldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” She questioned incredulously. What could possibly make this situation more complicated?

Draco cursed the day she was brought into his already convoluted life. He didn’t need her. He didn’t need another distraction. He definitely didn’t need to grow attached to her. He certainly did not want to feel such sympathy for her. How he wished she would blow away with the wind and take the problems she caused with her. 

He contemplated telling her the truth, but he couldn’t find it in him to thrust more life altering information into her lap; much less face the wrath both their parents would send him. Yet, when he looked to her expectant green eyes he knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to her either. “Look, I don’t even know the full story. I assume that when your parents return they will explain it to you themselves.”

“Where are they?” She questioned with a tilt of her head. “My parents, I mean.” She elaborated upon his confused expression.

He shrugged half-heartedly, “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.” She stated in a sure tone with even surer eyes.

He leaned back a little with an incredulous look, taken aback by her confidence. “Oh I do, do I?”

She gave him a hard stare and even managed an eye roll to Draco’s bewilderment. “You communicate by owls, don’t you?”

He blinked at her, shocked. How did she even know that? “Yes…” He said, drawing out the word with great hesitance. Where was she even going with this?

“Well then,” She said exasperatedly, “Don’t you have to tell the owls where to go?”

Draco laughed so hard that he fell back onto his back clutching his stomach. His sun glasses fell off his forehead and slid down back over his nose. Ember wanted to frown, but found it entirely impossible. It was the first time she had ever truly heard him laugh and it was a beautiful sight. His body was lean and defined, his teeth sparkling as he grinned in absolute mirth. Today he was wearing a black t-shirt, probably because this morning came sooner than any of them had been prepared for, and that cotton shirt mixed with his modern sunglasses and striking mused-up hair had her heart beating embarrassingly fast. He looked the epitome of a bad boy antagonist in the rare teen books she had read.

Once he had recovered from his violent laughter he sat back up with a few catch-your-breath gasps. “No. They know where to go once you give them a name. Magic remember?”

“Oh.”

He couldn’t keep the grin off his face as her gaze returned back to the ground and before he could help it, he brushed the hair away. The back of his fingers ran over her cheek in a light caress. Ember froze at the contact that seemed too intimate for whatever their relationship was.

He let his hand linger on her cheek for far too long, but couldn’t seem to regret it. Her skin was warm and soft, like silk. She flinched away, folding her lips into her mouth in humiliation. Draco coughed awkwardly, resituating his glasses over his nose.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Why stop now?” Draco questioned with a sarcastic head tilt.

Ember began to fiddle with the hem of her dress nervously. “Well, this is more of a personal question…”

“Oh. I’m intrigued.” He drawled and at her continued hesitance, urged, “Well, out with it then.”

She wrinkled her dress in her hands and began to gnaw on her bottom lip. She didn’t want to infuriate Draco, but she wasn’t sure if they would ever have another heart-to-heart; if that indeed was what this was. “Where is your father?” She whispered.

He clenched his jaw at the question and he was thankful that the glasses shielded his eyes from her for he squeezed them shut reflexively. Immediately, he saw his father being carted off to a cell in Azkaban, all the intruding eyes and incessant whispers behind his back, and Harry Potter with his messy hair, and that damned lightning scar, laughing mockingly in his face.

“He is…” He paused, licking his lips and returning his gaze back to the floating clouds above them. “Far away.”

She didn’t need to know about the divide between light and dark wizards yet, and she certainly didn’t need to know that he would become one in due time. She didn’t need to know about how much danger she was actually in. If he did explain it to her, her heart would simply give out.


	5. The Initiative

“Cause I’ve been shaking, I’ve been bending backwards till I’m broke. Watching all these dreams go up in smoke.”  
-Celine Dion, Ashes

July was coming to a close. Ember, for the time being, pushed down the undefined feelings she felt towards her parents. Forgiveness was not something she was willing to give them without a lengthy productive discussion. She had found the tip of an iceberg that she was eager to excavate, but it would not do to dwell on such turmoil and waste the time she had left. She had no way to know if her parents would barricade her from what she had unearthed and therefore she had to take advantage of the time she was allowed.

She wanted to learn everything she could about the wizarding world. Sure, she had a pretty wide background knowledge from the textbooks she had read countless times, but it was the culture, the hands-on experience, that Draco provided for her.

He found her questions both amusing and fascinating. It was never the obvious questions that she asked- no, it was the obscure, thought provoking, questions she favored. She would spend hours upon hours asking him questions, and he never grew tired of it like he might with anyone else. She had settled into a familiar comfort with him and with every answer he gave her, a beautiful smile would brighten her face. Her real, unbidden, smile stunned him, filling his stomach with trickling honey. He had never really been around anyone whom he could deem innocent and it was Ember’s innocence that drew him to her. He came to admit that her naivety was not nearly as boring as he had first assumed. 

Their easy conversations, where information and debate thrived, were going to have to come to a close soon though. The Dark Lord would be arriving any day now. Draco internally cringed at the thought of the evil that would soon invade his home. His spine shivered remembering the unsettling sinister smile of the Dark Lord that made one cower with the fear of not knowing whether he was amused or secretly plotting your demise. 

But the thought that plagued his mind more than anything was the hanging question of: What would happen with Ember? He had strategically steered clear of any mention of dark magic, besides the occasional Defense Against the Dark Arts question. It hadn’t been difficult. Ember was not the kind of person to naturally travel along the edges of the dark. Her heart was too pure to assume the worst of the world. He didn’t want her to know that he was affiliated with the Death Eaters. He didn’t want her to fear him.

She would learn soon enough. The Dark Lord would frequent these halls and she wouldn’t be able to evade him forever; whatever Draco’s wishes might be.

And sooner or later her parents were going to return and she would discover the real reason why she was brought to his home. He didn’t want to be there to see her face when she became aware of the situation they were trapped in.

Both situations were unavoidable. The question that remained was, which would occur first?

~

Ember was walking down the empty hallway with a small smile and a spring in her step. She had stayed up far later than she would have liked eagerly reading the potions textbook for year five, Magical Drafts and Potions, and Draco had promised that she could read year six as soon as he purchased it. Questions of everlasting elixirs and strengthening solutions had captured her dreams, filling her head to the brim with questions for Draco.

The bottom of her dress grazed the back of her calves as she floated on her way. Her hair, half pinned up, swished from side to side in ringlets down her back. Her eyes were a vibrant, energetic, and shinning with excitement.

She was thrown off track when a door to her right suddenly opened and Draco took a step into the hallway. She stopped instinctually and his head jerked to her like a spotlight. His expression was frazzled as his eyes glided over her. His usual, brushed back to perfection, hair was falling messily into his eyes. Honestly it was the most unkempt she had ever seen him and she’d seen him fresh out of his bed.

Ember’s head cocked slightly to the side at his appearance with a frown. Draco gulped shutting the door to his father’s study behind him and straighten out his shirt before running a hand through his hair, effectively pushing it out of his eyes. Her eyes followed the action, but shot back up to his eyes at his voice. “Ember, I…I have to go somewhere today.”

She blinked blankly a few times before her shoulders shrugged. “Alright. Where are you going?”

He broke their eye contact quickly and turned his back to her. He began to walk down the hall, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll see you tonight!” 

She watched his retreating back, until he turned the corner, with a skeptical expression. The interaction was entirely suspicious, but she brushed it off. He had looked to be in a rush, and maybe that was the reason for his strange behavior.

~

Draco pulled uneasily at the collar of his shirt, gulping unsteadily, trying not to clear his throat as he sat in the back corner of Dolohov’s shitty excuse for a living room. After the massive Azkaban break out last month, Dolohov had returned to his mansion half-raided and had yet to begin reparations. Why Voldemort chose to have a meeting here rather than the Lestrange’s was a mystery to Draco. He would have felt much more comfortable in his aunt’s house, but he supposed he should have just been grateful that his own home hadn’t landed on the roulette wheel yet.

He had been pushed to the back of the room upon arrival with nothing but a witty wink from his aunt. This meetings attendance was less than the previous meetings he had been allowed to attend. Voldemort had given missions to a few of his Death Eaters and therefore they had been exempt from his summons. His father had been one to be so lucky. Draco didn’t mind, he felt more confident when his father’s judgmental eye was not hovering over him.

This particular meeting had been dull. Well, it became dull when Draco realized that Voldemort had not batted an eye at him. This did not mean that he would not become the main attraction at some point and did little to relax his spine but the endless cycle of mindless discussion between an unenthused Dolohov, a conferring Bellatrix, and the useless chatter of the Carrows under the altar of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was becoming monotonous. 

Voldemort slammed his hand down on the table in front of him, effectively silencing the room and reinvigorating Draco’s attention. The ashen skin around his mouth wrinkled into a displeased sneer, his slit like eyes narrowed in indignation. “That is a ridiculous assumption to make Alecto. Especially since the point will be moot when young Draco returns to Hogwarts.”

All eyes traveled to him and he fidgeted underneath the weight of their gaze. So much for remaining a shadow, he thought, courageously keeping his chin as high as he could. 

The last meeting had put the nail in to the coffin of Draco’s plans, or mission, for his sixth year. His ingenious idea had concluded that he was worthy for initiation, worthy and up for the unimaginable tasks handed to him.

Voldemort tilted his head towards the boy and beckoned him forward. Dolohov leaned back in his chair licking the inside of his cheeks and sizing up the anxiety seized Draco as he shakily made his way to the Dark Lord.

One look from the man, who was no longer a man, was not like another. One could never know what his expressions were truly conveying which only emphasized his disconcerting countenance. That was why when he held his hand out expectantly, with nothing more but lips pressed thin over sharp teeth, Draco fumbled before offering his left arm for the final step in his initiation. 

It was a quick unceremonious ceremony. The act of becoming the youngest Death Eater in history did not carry the same weight to the surrounding followers as it did to Draco. He was making history, how terrifying and unacknowledged it might be. They looked on as he became branded with the darkest of marks with dispassionate faces, only their noses wrinkling at the disgusting smell of burning flesh wafted to their turned-up noses.

Draco watched with teeth clenched around a scream as the deadliest wand contorted the skin of his left forearm, burning it with perpetual black ink in the shape of a snake slithering out of the mouth of a skull. It hurt. He managed to lock away the painful cries that wanted to escape, but he could not school his face from contorted agony. 

When it was over, he was given back his limb with nothing more than a dismissive nod. Draco looked to his aunt, who was gleaming proudly at him, her nails tapping restlessly against her arm rests. He took a deep breath, backing back into his corner, only noticing the perspiration on his skin when a drop traveled down the bridge of his nose. He brushed it away with a huff and sat down as unobtrusively as possible. His caressed the mark on his arm devotedly. It no longer hurt; only throbbed with the reminder of the impact it left on his future. 

The meeting was brought to a close quickly without any progress to have been made. Dolohov made quick work of banishing the members from his house as quick as he could once the Dark Lord, with a trailing Wormtail, had vanished into the night. Draco obediently left through the Floo Network with a proud pat on the back from his aunt.

He arrived back at Malfoy Manor to see a tall man with a blonde woman sitting with his mother in the sitting room. The man eyed him critically, stripping him of his remaining confidence, and the woman, who was fiddling with her teaspoon, considered him with nervous eyes. His mother looked up at him gravely.

Draco leaned on his back leg with a deep sigh. There was only one explanation as to the arrival of these new guests. “Shit.”

~ 

Ember sat on her bed peacefully reading into the early hours of the night. As far as she knew there were no other occupants in the manor since Draco, and no doubt his mother, had left in the late afternoon so she had remained in her room with her books shifting into different positions on her bed precisely every half hour. She hadn’t left the room, nor heard anyone return. Her dinner had been brought up by a skittish house elf that would not engage in conversation a few hours earlier.

A soft knock sounded on her door causing her eyes to skim the rest of the paragraph and place her book down as her door opened slowly, revealing a rigid Draco. He stood in her doorway consciously pulling his left sleeve down past his wrist. She took notice of the bizarre movement, but was more confused by his timid posture and the torn look he gave her.  
He inclined his head toward the hallway, “Follow me.”

She swung her legs on the side of her bed and placed her feet on the floor hesitantly. “Why?”

He sighed, bowing his head and avoiding her eyes, which was very unlike the Draco she had come to know, and gestured with his hand loosely. “Just come.”

Tension filled her bones as she walked past him. He was acting so distant and not in the same way that he had when she had arrived. Then, he was cold and unforgiving, but now, after weeks of constant companionship, he was simply detached and almost submissive. This strange turn of his behavior caused her to be extra cautious. She felt like she was walking on thinning ice; like the world was about to dissolve underneath her.

Draco closed the door behind her and walked around her, blindingly expecting her to follow to which she complied. He glanced over his shoulder to watch her conspicuously. Her eyes were trained to the ground between them, a deep frown furrowing her brow.

He sighed as he started down the stairs. He didn’t want her to find out the reality of her situation. He didn’t want to see her face as it crumbled at the realization. He didn’t want to see the accusations he knew she would throw at him. They had been getting on so well lately and he didn’t want that to change.

They reached the dining room at a slow pace. Ember felt blindsided the moment she rounded the corner and stepped foot into the room. Her parent sat on one side of the table casually dining with Narcissa. It had only been a few months since she last saw them, but it was a great enough time for her to have gained some perspective. They now looked nothing but draconian figures casting shadows of oppression through their eyes that she was all too familiar with. 

She looked up to Draco for an answer, because as far as she knew her parents weren’t due to pick her up for a few more weeks. She suddenly mourned the time they could have spent together and the conversations that would never take place. Perhaps they could write to each other, though she doubted Draco kept up with normal correspondence, and by the way he was acting she would call herself foolish to even suggest it. He refused to meet her gaze. He abandoned her in the doorway to take a seat next to his mother on the same side of the table as her parents. In fact, all chairs on the side of the table closest to her were removed besides one. It was an overdramatic statement that suggested this would not be a conversation that would simply whisk her away from her summer stay at the Malfoy's.

With Draco’s avoidance, she was alone, as she always had been, but she knew that this time her parent’s expressions meant absolute business and if Ember didn’t comply, there would be severe consequences. Since Ember had never been granted access to a conversation of this sort before, and she could feel the tautness stretch over the air, she promptly calculated her chances of running away, which she quickly admitted where absolutely nothing. Draco’s head was angled to the table, completely deferential. He had become one of them.

“Ember, why don’t you join us?” Her father asked, inclining his knife pointedly to the lone chair. His tone left no room for debate as it was anything but a request.

She obeyed, sitting down hesitantly in front of a council of sharks.


	6. Terrible Silver Linings

“Cause lately it’s been hard, and they’re selling me for parts, and I don’t want to be modern art, but I only got half a heart to give to you”  
-Alexander 23, IDK You Yet

Her eyes turned to stare at those of her mother. She could have sworn the usual impassive teal blue eyes staring back at her had somehow softened. Her skin was flawless, honey blonde curls framing her face elegantly, and her arm reached for her husband.

Blaine glanced at Olivia with a heavy sigh before his gaze returned to his daughter’s expectant eyes. He placed his cutlery down and wiped the corners of his mouth with a cloth napkin. “Now that you know what we are, we should tell you the story of why you are here.” He paused waiting for Ember’s undeniable curiosity to rear its’ ugly head, but it never came.

Ember stared at her mother, who had now refused to meet her gaze, confirming her unadulterated fear of this conference. Blaine’s eyes flickered to his wife before continuing the tale, “We sent you hear for the summer so that you would get to know the Malfoy’s and that they could help explain to you the world we live in.”

Her gaze flickered to Draco as he rolled his eyes sarcastically at the remark. She lowered her chin, staring at her palms that were beginning to sweat laying on her lap, and tried to discern why her parents gave complete strangers, for that is what they were to Ember, the responsibility of telling her the most important information of her life.

Silence settled over the room. Ember waited for her father’s voice to continue to resonate off the walls, but it was Narcissa’s sweet voice that continued the story. “Ember,” She called, waiting for the girl to look at her. It took Ember a moment to separate her gaze from her abashed mother and give her attention to the quiet woman she had spent the past months with. “When Draco was born we knew he was bound for greatness.”

Ember once again looked to Draco. He glanced up to meet her eyes for a brief moment before the sullen blue returned to the table before him. Her heart pinged at the dereliction. 

Draco had heard this story before. He remembered two years ago when his parents had told him. It had been rehearsed, like they had read it off a script; without emotion and without remorse. He had sat exactly where Ember was now. He had been the same age; he’d been just as innocent- just as blindsided.

“Lucius and I knew that Draco needed to have someone worthy enough to be bound to him for his life.”

Draco looked up just as Ember’s gaze fell to her lap, brows clenched together in confusion. She looked especially small with the dining chair towering over her small frame. He stubbornly wanted to reach across the table, take her hand in his, and run before his mother continued to unravel this tragedy.

Narcissa sighed, placing her palm on the table, before glancing towards the Knights. “So we turned to your parents asking for their help…and so you were born.”

Ember froze in her seat with the realization. Her features smoothed with disbelief. Narcissa opened her mouth to continue, but Ember had already aimed herself at her parents. “The only reason I am here is because of him?”

“Ember Diane!” Her mother scolded, her usual hard gaze returning. The hand clutching her father’s arm tightened, turning her knuckles white.

“No!” Ember shouted. It felt as if a gate had been lifted or a dam had been broken inside her, releasing a torrential pouring of anger. “The only reason I am alive is because I was literally made to marry him?” 

Blaine pounded his fist on the table dangerously calling her back to order. “Do not talk back to your mother, you insolent brat!” He growled.

That was enough of an answer for Ember.

“Darling girl, please hear me out.” Narcissa began beseechingly. Her heart ached for the girl unraveling before her. While she agreed with her husband that an arranged marriage would be the best thing for their son and that the Knights were the perfect choice to help with such an arrangement, she had not intended, or expected, that the child born from such a contract would not have been loved, not have been cherished. If she had, then perhaps this wouldn’t be such a hard pill to swallow. “We needed our son to marry a pure-blooded woman. We needed someone who would be respected within the community. And you can’t understand the way it was back then. You can’t understand what kind of pressure we were under seventeen years ago. We couldn’t have him marry a half-blood. We needed security in our future; our legacy. We needed conformation that he would be with someone worthy enough.” She explained.

Blaine scoffed, unable to control himself. “Yeah, but we got you.”

Ember hadn’t braced herself for his words. She hadn’t been ready for the swift unrestrained lash of shame and the humiliation that followed. The stinging sensation of tears began to prick in the corner of her eyes. She didn’t have the heart to swallow them.

Olivia continued, licking her lips, “We couldn’t have imagined that you would become a squib. With your father being so powerful, it was ridiculous to think that you wouldn’t have any magical abilities at all; but we owed Narcissa and Lucius. So, we took you to a specialist just to make sure, and he assured us that you were destined for great things.”

“Divination.” Blaine scoffed as if the word had a rotten taste. “It didn’t matter how disgraceful your defects. Neither parties could back out of the deal.”

“The contract was bounded in blood. Irreversible without dire consequences. Witch or no witch, you are pure-blood.” Narcissa ended with forthright finality.

Ember couldn’t do anything but gape at the three adults. Their words clouded her mind and stole the breath from her lungs. This can’t be happening.

“We shall have a wedding before the summer is over.” Olivia concluded showing no remorse in her impassive visage. 

The walls were closing in. The four of them were crowding her. Drawing in breath was proving difficult as Ember began to hyperventilate. She stared at Draco; her betrothed. Why hadn’t he said anything? Why was he not enraged?

He met her gaze with an expression she couldn’t decipher, but as she examined him closer, in the corner of his eye, barely legible, was guilt and Ember realized that this wasn’t the first time he had heard this tale.

Her lips curled back, like a wolf barring their teeth. “You knew?” She accused, standing up, kicking the chair behind her as her eyes bore down at him. “You knew this whole time…and you didn’t say a word to me?”

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but there were no words to soften the egregious blow. Her sentence was laced with hurt, with such betrayal that he finally had to break their eye contact. Guilt clutched at his heart and made it hard to breathe much less stare into her heartbroken eyes.

She snapped her jaw tight and glanced across the table once more to see the deciders of her fate, the ones she had trusted, who had only ever lied to her, before she couldn’t stomach looking at their faces any longer. Abruptly, she turned her back on the table and began walking numbly away from the dining room.

Her father began to yell after her, cursing her with cruel words and variegated denouncements, but she barely heard them as her world began to spin. Claustrophobia was beginning to set in causing her to dash for the back door. 

The cool summer air rushed against her face as she pushed herself into a run. She would have run back towards the woods like she had when she had found the dungeon beneath the manor but it was far and she wasn’t under the illusion that she could escape the overwhelming truth to their words, but she had to get out from under their eyes. Therefore, the intricate garden was her next resort. 

She winded her way through the maze-like path of the garden until she came across a gazebo and b-lined for the safe haven. All the while her brain turned over and over, the words of their conversation sinking in, and then the tears came.

They were big and ugly as they rolled down her cheeks. She grasped one of the wooden poles and pushed herself into the gazebo and fell on her knees next to the lone bench. This is how it felt to know that you were not created out of love. This is how it felt to be created for convenience, for someone else, for something as simple as owing it to someone. 

Her parents had never loved her. She must have just been a loop hole to them; something they could raise to settle their debt. They were butchers, and she was their unfortunate cattle.  
They never wanted her. They never cared. They only cared that she was not as worthy as she could have been. They were only concerned that her squibness would cause the Malfoy’s to call off the deal. They weren’t concerned about her well-being, about her happiness. Narcissa had made it seem like no matter what, the deal was set in stone; meaning that the Malfoy’s didn’t really want her either. She was but a pawn in the game of others and she never had a chance to be something more.

Ember had never had much room for anger. She had always been more focused on the brighter side of things but she could not simply push aside the pain of this betrayal. A mixture of anger and hurt settled deep in her gut as her soul cried out in anguish. 

~

Draco managed to find her when she hadn’t come back after an hour. It was the start of what was sure to be a long night as the stars were just beginning to come out. She was sat on the cold concrete, arms resting on the bench with her head laying on her bicep. She was looking up at the moon forlornly. Her eyes glistening slightly in the moonlight, her skin practically glowing.

He took the step up into the gazebo, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the support beam. She looked at him from the corner of her eye but otherwise ignored him. “You can’t stay out here forever.”

“I could try.” She replied stubbornly.

Draco rolled his eyes. He knew that he couldn’t fully understand what she was going through and as much as he hated to admit it he felt guilty for a number of reasons. He felt guilty that the only reason she was alive was because of him. She was born for him in some twisted backward thinking scheme for the survival of pure-blood wizards. It hadn’t been his fault, they had not taken into consideration his happiness either, but still the guilt throbbed in his chest. 

He hadn’t known what her parents were like. He had never really given any thought to how her parents had treated her, never took the time to question her timid behavior, but looking back at their interactions it made sense that she was so nervous and compliant. Her parents had very clearly only had her at his parent’s insistence. They never wanted her, never loved her. His parents had a lot of flaws but he had never had to question about whether or not they cared about him.

“That wouldn’t solve anything,” He retorted dryly.

She finally lifted her head to look at him. She was completely defeated and it showed in her eyes. “And what would?”

He sighed deeply, resting his temple against the beam. There wasn’t an answer. He had spent the first few months looking for an excuse; anything that would wash away this disastrous turn of events, but there wasn’t.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered. Her eyes echoed the betrayal that had assaulted her. 

He pushed off the side of the pillar and made the few strides over to her. “It wasn’t my place.” He said groaning tiredly as he lowered himself down to sit next to her, resting his back against the bench.

“I thought we were friends.” She mumbled, staring at his profile as he stretched his long legs out. 

He glared at her. “Friends?” He mocked in a knee-jerk reaction, but quickly regretted it when her already crestfallen expression fell even further.

She silently recoiled from his venomous tone and returned her gaze back up to the moon. She felt the moisture return to her eyes but she refused to cry in front of him. “You’re right,” She said softly, “We never really were friends.”

Draco nodded his head slowly, wincing internally. This wasn’t a good way to start off a relationship with his future wife. He stared at her face as she looked at the moon, her green eyes still shining. It illuminated her in a silver halo and the light breeze tousled her long hair. She looked incredibly soft in this light and he strangely wanted to feel her skin underneath his palm once more.

Ember truly was beautiful. He could have ended up with someone far less appealing to look at. She was smart too, could hold a decent conversation with him when she felt comfortable enough. Sure, maybe she was a squib, but maybe that wasn’t as repulsive as it had been two months ago.

“Look, it sucks. It’s fucking rubbish that our parents decided to tie us together without our input, but we’re stuck with each other for the time being.” 

If his words were supposed to bring comfort, they were sorely lacking in the soothing department. She glanced at him bemusedly before ignoring him altogether. She wished that he had stayed in the house and left her alone with only the moon and her thoughts. She wasn’t enjoying his commentary. “Time being?” She mused.

“Well,” He nodded with a humorless grin. “I have had more time to think about this than you have. Maybe after a few years, we can go our own separate ways. Hell, maybe after we have a kid they’ll concede to a divorce. At some point, they can’t be in control of our lives. This can just be temporary.”

“What if I don’t want to have a kid?” She mumbled to the moon.

He leaned his head back, so that his neck rested against the curve of the bench; his face inclined to hers. “I know this isn’t what you want. It’s not what I want either. I know that. I can’t promise to love you, or cherish you, or any of that mushy rubbish. I can promise to bare this burden with you and search for any opportunity to negate this marriage.”

Was the thought of marrying her really that awful or was he just terrible at divulging a silver lining?

“How charming,” She murmured sarcastically.

“Hey, charming is not one of my attributes. I’d define myself as confident, intelligent…” He grinned at her, “and dashingly handsome, of course.”

She blushed at his self-assured, ironically charming, wording but laughed lightly at his attempt to break the tension. He smirked, knowing that it worked.

~

Draco had managed to convince her to return to the house. He claimed casually that they could stay out there the whole night but that it would get cold soon and he got grumpy when he was cold. The thought of an irritable Draco was enough of a motivator to get Ember off the concrete and walking back towards the mansion, even though she had never asked him to keep her company in the first place.

They were silent as they made the silent trek back. Ember’s face was emotionless, with swollen eyes and pale cheeks. Draco followed at her side with his hands tucked awkwardly in his pockets.  
The pair quietly slipped in through the back door. They could both hear the reticent chattering wafting from the adults who had apparently moved to the sitting room. Ember paused near the kitchens and consciously rammed her already stuffy head into the wall with a whine.

Draco clasped her shoulder and pulled her back with a whisper, “Hey, stop that.” 

She looked up to him defeated. “All I want to do is go to bed.”

He winced. There was no way to get up the stairs without having to pass the sitting room. If only he could apparate them to the second level and save her the trouble of confronting her parents again. 

She sighed the deepest sigh he had ever heard, and trudged herself down the hallway that led to the staircase in the foyer. It was the quietest shuffling and the closer she got to the stairs the more it seemed her shoulders drooped; like she was physically being run into the ground, all while trying to keep her presence a secret. It was gracefully depressing. 

They had barely stepped into the foyer when they heard her mother call out in a steely voice, “Ember.” 

Ember closed her eyes. Her futile attempt at rounding the edge of the stairs without being seen had failed. She felt her back tense under the weight of her parent’s eyes. She turned on her heel with gritted teeth. She was a tired wolf that still yearned for blood to be spilt over their thoughtless decisions.

The three of them were drinking tea. Although they were not sitting at the convenient table in the corner like every time Ember had had tea with Narcissa. They were scattered over the furniture. Her father sitting firmly in an arm chair, her mother and Narcissa sitting separately on the settee. The air was underlined with tension, but it irked Ember to realize they acted as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn’t just ripped her life away from her.

If looks could kill, Draco thought amazed. He had never seen this side to Ember. He didn’t think she really had a side darker than perhaps an angry kitten, but her eyes were positively murderous. It wasn’t in the way that was obvious with narrowed lids or lips curled into a sneer. It was refined in the way someone who had hit rock bottom only to be continually agitated. She was a viper about to strike, without any inclination to whom her victim might be.

“What?” She rasped at them. “What more could you possibly want from me?”

Her father’s eyes flashed dangerously, but it was her mother who responded curtly, “You do not speak to us that way.”

Ember felt the imaginary leash that had been wrapped around her since birth, that implored her to be respectful and obedient, yank against her. She longed to snap the cord, just to prove that she could.

“Now,” Olivia began, smoothing out her skirt, composing her face into a false amiable expression. “We have things to discuss. Plans to finalize.”

Ember shook her head resolutely. “No we don’t.” Her eyes flickered to Narcissa. “Why don’t you just leave it to Mrs. Malfoy and be on your way. I have nothing more to say to you.” To finalize the words, Ember turned back around on the balls of her feet and made her way up the stairs swiftly.

Draco looked after her in awe. He glanced back into the sitting room smugly gratified at the horrified expression on Mrs. Knight’s face. He was sure the wood would splinter underneath Mr. Knight’s hand at any moment as he gripped the arm rest tightly. Their heartless eyes flickered to him and all he could to was try and contain the smirk growing on his lips and shrug half-heartedly before following Ember’s lead.

~

When Ember looked in the mirror the next morning she thought she looked different. She couldn’t quite place the differences herself, but her eyes had grown just a bit harder. A wet blanket had been placed over her life and any dreams she might have had. She had been deceived by callous parents. Her naiveté had waned in a brutal way. She was beginning to understand where Draco’s pessimistic attitude stemmed from.

Draco had been enjoying his pumpkin juice as he read the Daily Prophet at the breakfast table. He thought the piece of journalism to be ridiculous nowadays, mostly because he knew the truth of the matter while they tried to sweep it under the rug. He hadn’t even noticed Ember in the doorway until she asked, “Where are they?”

His gaze flicked up to her at her voice. She seemed hollow as her eyes scanned the room, looking for any sign of her unwelcomed parents. He folded down the prophet and frowned at the dark circles underneath her eyes. She looked exhausted. “They left last night.”

She let out a relieved breath and finally entered the room. She sat down gracefully across from Draco and waited as one of the house elves brought her a plate of toast and eggs. She frowned down at her plate realizing she wasn’t hungry in the slightest. She knew that she should be satisfied that her parents had left, and honestly she was, but she still couldn’t erase the part of her that was disappointed. They hadn’t even tried to say goodbye, she thought numbly. She picked up her fork and stabbed at her food, avoiding Draco’s pity-filled eyes, as Narcissa walked into the room.

Draco looked away from Ember to his mother, smiling a good morning. The immaculate woman walked around the table with a smile and kissed the top of her son’s platinum head. Ember watched the display with an aching in her chest.

Narcissa sat down in her usual spot and barely snapped her fingers before two house elves rushed in, each holding one end of a large silver tray, with the woman’s breakfast.

There was relatively peaceful silence as the three of them broke their fast. The kind where no one wanted to bring up the events of the night before and therefore ignored the event entirely. 

Ember pushed her food around her plate before placing her fork on the table and whispering, “I’m not going back to my school, am I?”

Draco stared at the girl softly. She kept her eyes lowered to her perfectly prepared breakfast- her posture faultless. Her eye lashes hid her emotions from his probing eyes well.

“No,” Narcissa said, in a tone just above a whisper, “You will remain here with me while Draco completes his last year of school.” 

“Oh,” She whispered. She was just being placed in a different cage. She should count her blessings she supposed. Narcissa was a nice woman and far better company than her own parents. Still, now she would have to give up her education as well. She hoped that they didn’t expect her to pop out a child so soon.

Draco noticed that she had returned to her lethargic dissection of her breakfast with slumped shoulders. He couldn’t blame her. He had to remind himself that this was the day after the truth had been revealed. He was surprised to see that she had even come out of her room. He had locked himself in his room, with a stolen bottle of his father’s vodka, and refused to come out for three days before he had accepted his sentence. 

He wasn’t used to not having a choice though; Ember was. After seeing her with her parents he understood that she was used to not getting a say. He guessed that she had probably never been presented with a real choice in her life.

It was remarkable how two children, who shared the same fate, could have been brought up so differently. She had been denied everything, when everything had been provided for him. He had never had to truly work for anything and life had been too easy on him; something he only now realized while looking at his future bride. 

He looked back to his mother who smiled sweetly at him. He felt his chest swell with emotion. His parents might not have been the best, but they loved him with everything they had. The girl across from him hadn’t been given a stitch of love.


	7. When the Other Shoe Dropped

“The world disarms before a flesh and you are not allowed to be anybody else. Control what you can and confront what you can’t. And always remember how lucky you are to have yourself.”  
-The Maine, (Un)Lost

Ember bounced back fast.

A long week had passed at the manor. Ember gave herself a day to throw herself a pity party and then she locked up the pain and the heartache and safely stored away the key. It wouldn’t do to dwell on the inevitable. If Draco hadn’t figured out an alternative in the past two years, she certainly wasn’t going to find one in a few weeks. She couldn’t even remember what her dreams of the future had been, or maybe she never even really had any. It was a moot point anyway. She had been given a new future, one that she wasn’t going to make more difficult with a gloomy attitude.

Once the veil had been lifted, and all the important truths had been told, it became much easier with Draco and Narcissa. Their meals had become something Ember looked forward to. The discussions had become relaxed and informative just as her days in the sun with Draco had. She didn’t like to linger in the manor more than necessary, so on days when the sun shined she dragged Draco outdoors. Or maybe drag wasn’t the right word. She hadn’t asked or insisted that Draco keep her company, he always just followed her.

She thought that maybe he was bored and teasing her was more entertaining than lounging in the manor like a house cat. It didn’t matter to her, she always welcomed him with a smile, her heart fluttering at the thought that he had intentionally seeked her out.

That smile, so soft and gentle, drew him back to her time and again but it was her intellect that made him stay. He actually enjoyed spending time with her. He enjoyed answering her questions about the magical world that he lived in. He enjoyed just being around her and soaking in her own inner peace like a fucking mosquito. She was a roaring fire in the depths of the dark forest he had been imprisoned in; he couldn’t help but huddle near it, draw its warmth, and relish in its light.

They were as smooth as they could be. The waves had rocked the rocky relationship they had built but it proved to be stronger than either anticipated. Perhaps there was something about two souls sharing the same fate that connected them when he thought it would pit them against each other. He knew how lucky he was to have her. It could have been so much worse. He could have been stuck with an overly-pretentious vain bitch. That is what he had been expecting, not the sweet inquisitive girl that sat next to him. He learned that he should never have underestimated or assumed the worst in her. She broke the mold he tried to fit her in every time, without a care. 

Draco knew that this time would be short lived. These afternoons where they lazed out in the sun would soon return to foreboding nights. It was only a matter of time before Voldemort showed up. He refused to imagine how Ember fit into that picture. His mother had become jittery, though she tried, and failed, to conceal it around him. He had a bad feeling that the Dark Lord would not take well to Ember or their arrangement. He unconsciously rubbed his mark through his long sleeves, an inescapable sigh slipping past his lips.

“What?” Ember asked from above him. She was sat cross legged in the grass beside him as he laid next to her. She brushed her wavy hair behind her ear and sighed, “I’m boring you, aren’t I?”

He shook his head, the ghost of a smile on his face. “No. Just a lot on my mind is all.”

“Oh…” She whispered seriously, closing Hogwarts: A History and set it down in the grass between them. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Her voice was soft and hesitant. Somewhere in the back of her mind she had trained herself to not think that she was sitting with her future husband and to remind herself that she was sitting with Draco, who over the past couple of weeks had managed be become her best friend- her only friend. Still, he was reserved when it came to explaining personal details of himself to her. Sure, his culture and his opinions were up for grabs but the him that made him him, she had yet to really see.

He stretched out his arms over his head before looking into her understanding eyes. If only he could explain the cruelty of his world; if only she could look past his sins and the sins of those he was connected to. She was pure and he couldn’t bring himself to taint her. “You wouldn’t be able to understand.”

Her brows furrowed together and he thought that she was going to get angry with him for a split second before her eyes just turned sad. “How will you ever know if you never give me the chance?”

The chuckle he had locked and ready to go, died in his throat. Her words tugged at his heart uncomfortably. He realized that in that moment, just that moment, he adored her. She had such an honest and trusting heart. How it had survived her upbringing, he would never know. 

Her eyes silently demanded a worthy answer, but he knew that she knew there wasn’t one. “Not today.” He answered. The sun was shining and the breeze was warm and there was no reason to unlatched the torrential rain pour today.

Her heard a slight huff and before he knew it she had picked the old book up and was half way across the lawn heading back to the mansion. He sighed as he stared back up into the cloudless sky. He wondered, as he had many times before, if it was smarter to tell her before the Dark Lord got here or if it was best to just let the events unfold themselves.  
As it turned out the option was out of his grasp.

~

Ember was curled up in the alcove of the upstairs hallway, gazing at the overhead view of the lustrous Malfoy gardens through the window. She had found the cozy spot the week before and claimed it as her own. Hogwarts: A History was long forgotten, tucked between her legs and the glass of the window. Her brow pinched in confusion as the lanterns that scattered the grounds dimmed all at once. If they hadn’t been oil lanterns, she would have guessed that they had been on a timer. She knew it was some form of magic but was perplexed as to why. She had sat in this alcove for the better part of a week and the lights had never dulled. Then, suddenly the house grew cold.

It was a sudden chill that spread through her like wildfire. Gooseflesh formed over her arms as she shivered. Then, a movement from the corner of her eye gained her attention.

Her breath hitched as she clutched her knees to her chest. Along the baseboards of the hall, just about to turn the corner, was a massive snake slithering across the old wooden floorboards, barely making a sound. She knew the Malfoy’s favored snakes because of the constant, but subtle, motifs scattered around the house that she now knew emphasized there Slytherin pride, but she wasn’t under the impression that they actually owned one. She stared at its graceful movements before it completely rounded the corner and disappeared entirely.

And if that wasn’t disconcerting enough, Draco was running down the hall with flushed cheeks. When he reached her, he grabbed her hand in his and yanked her to follow him with radiating urgency. He was dressed in nice slacks and a white button up shirt, his hair slick back to perfection. He looked as if he was about to be sick as he anchored her down the hall.

“What is going on?” Ember whispered, adrenaline pumping viciously through her veins as she stumbled after Draco.

They reached her room in record time. He thrust open her door and pushed her inside before quietly shutting the door behind him. He turned around quickly to look at her puzzled expression. He gulped, dropping her hand. “I can’t explain right now. I know you’re confused but you need to trust me. Stay in here and don’t make a sound.” He grasped her face between his hands, flustered. “Can you trust me?”

“Yes,” She said quickly, her brows pulled together, stunned at the warmth of his palms. 

He dropped his hands and turned back to twist her door open, but before he could leave, Ember reached out and grabbed a fist full of his sleeve. “Draco, what’s-”

His hand covered hers softly, effectively cutting her off, releasing her grip on him effortlessly. “Please, just trust me. Don’t open the door for anyone. I’ll come see you when it’s over. Just be silent.” With that he vanished out the door, leaving Ember frightened and alone in the dark.

~

She kept the lights off. He hadn’t told her to but the desperation in his eyes instilled a visceral fear. She sat in the lone chair in the corner with her knees gathered in her arms, frozen. She had nothing to do but wait and hope that everything would be okay. Hours passed punctuated by the slow ticking of the old clock resting on her bedside table. She rested her chin on the top of her knees, blinking painfully as she willed Draco to walk through the door. A headache had blossomed behind her eyes and she knew that she was tired, but at the same time she knew that she couldn’t even dream of sleeping with the crackling tension Draco had left behind.

She squeaked as she heard muffled voices outside her door, having the distinct feeling that Draco was not one of them. She quickly glanced around her room, trying to find a place to hide, but before she uncurled herself from her chair to see if she could fit underneath her bed, her door swung open.

She winced at the invading light from the hallway. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust for her to be able to see the two people now stood in the doorway. The smaller figure was of a lean woman. She was dressed in tight black lace that draped off her like smoke. Her hair was black and as long as it was voluminous. She had a pale face, with cheek bones that protruded in a malnourish fashion. It was her eyes that made her look crazy. They were big, cat-like, black holes that lit up in unexplained mirth. The taller figure next to her needed no introduction. Ember’s eyes widened at the spitting image of her husband to be. 

He stood proud with sleek platinum hair longer than her own. His face was pinched, his lips thin, and his eyes were just a shade darker than the ones she was growing use to. There was no mistaking that he was Draco’s father. 

He took a step forward into the room, lighting the tip of his wand in a circular glow. Only then did it occur to her that they couldn’t see her in the shadows of the corner. It made no difference, his eyes soon met hers in deep evaluation with the help of his wand.

The woman swaggered her way into the room with a lit-up wand of her own. “She’s a tiny thing, isn’t she?” Her voice was hoarse and high-pitched. 

Ember winced at the sound, staring up at the pair that hovered above her with studious eyes. She felt caged underneath them and very, very, vulnerable.

Mr. Malfoy lowered his wand with resenting eyes. “Get up, child. The Dark Lord has requested your presence.” He said with a stiff disposition.

She heard the command but didn’t understand his words. Shakily, she stood up from the chair and nervous looked between the pair. This was the definition of ominous. His eyebrow raised a fraction before he turned on his heel, following the woman, and strode out of her room. She followed compliantly, too afraid to do anything else.

Images of the manor flew past her in monotone blurs as they travelled discordantly down the stairs. Neither of her two companions looked back to make sure she was following. She wondered if they would even notice if she slipped down a different hallway.

Once they reached the first level, they moved to a part of the mansion Ember had never discovered. The normal long hallways were cut shorter and shorter as they twisted and turned corners, finally arriving at a large open doorway. 

It was a broad room not out of place from the others stylistically. The ceiling was high, the only windows trailing along underneath the crown molding. There was no furniture, only a freshly waxed floor and the largest fireplace that she had ever seen. All of this splendor was inconsequential though. They were just details that Ember would notice later when she returned to the room filled with ghosts.

Several people crowded the room all dressed in black with dim expressions on the dark features of their faces. This too was but a minor detail shadowed by the main attraction stood in front of the fireplace.

A man, if he was to be classified as one, stood tall above the others. His skin was a gravestone white stretching tightly along gaunt bones. His eyes were heartless almond shaped red slits sitting on the side of a reptilian replacement of a nose. His lips pulled over sharp teeth in an alarming smile, sending shivers down Ember’s spine. The snake she had seen earlier was curled next to his bare feet, hissing casually. 

His eyes travelled over her frozen figure in the entrance to the room, with a look of distaste, before flicking over to the only faces she recognized in the sea of strangers. Narcissa’s usual immaculate disposition was soured with an expressionless face. Her eyes stared pointedly, slightly glassy, at a spot in the wall and never wavered. Draco stood not even an arm’s length away from his mother. His face was blank of everything except a clenched jaw, but his eyes stared at her in pain-filled panic.

The Dark Lord paced leisurely in front of the roaring fire, clicking his tongue. As if it had been a signal, the woman whom Ember had followed gripped her arm tightly before thrusting her down onto the ground before the party. She managed to catch herself with her palms before she went sliding closer to the epitome of a villain. 

“For those of us that are not aware,” He began with a surprisingly airy voice. “The Malfoy’s thought that they could pass off young Draco’s marriage without my blessing.” He tutted patronizingly, and Ember could do nothing but stare at the tall creature as he twisted around to face her. “And to none other than our once loyal allies, the Knight’s, only daughter…”

Chuckles drifted across the followers. They were mocking her. She stared at the ground. Shame that she didn’t know she deserved the bear swelled in her stomach as fear surrounded everything else. Draco hadn’t told her of this man nor of these people and her intuition begged her to remain silent and vigilant.

Her body was suddenly not her own. Her limbs moved without her consent as she was lifted haphazardly above the floor. With the twitch of the Dark Lord’s finger she flew across the room slamming to a halt in front of his deadly eyes. His long wand, that twisted at the handle to resemble a bone, tilted her chin up before running along her cheek. Ember began to tremble in her invisible restraints as his gaze travelled over her face contemplatively.

His eyes flicked up towards the ceiling before roaming back to her face. “What makes you worthy of being a Malfoy, hm?” He whispered to her. “What makes you entirely special?”

Ember tried to look anywhere but his face. It was distressing to be so close to a face that had just enough deformity to emphasize the flaws of the parts that even mirrored humanity. She couldn’t see the group behind her, but she knew that they were no friends of hers. Kind people do not cowardly stand by and watch a poor defenseless girl suffer for amusement.

The Dark Lord continued to study her face impassively which caused her to question his seemingly rhetorical inquiry. “I-I-I…I” She stuttered but couldn’t think of a response. She wasn’t worthy and she wasn’t special, there was no masking those facts.

He tutted at her, his eyes feigning softly. “No need to be scared,” He whispered before his smirk returned and all softness, fabricated or not, vanished. “No need to be terrified!” He shouted yanking his wand away from her cheek, scratching her in the process, and flashing it at her core sending her flying backwards and slamming her back onto the floor. Her back would be severely bruised, but the pain didn’t even register on Ember’s radar as her whole body was suddenly consumed in pain. 

Draco stared down in horror as Ember’s began writhing in agony. The quiet girl was now releasing piercing screams that managed to drown out even the laughter from the Death Eaters. Her body twisted and turned wildly. Her eyes shut tight, face contorted into uncontrollable pain; brown clumps of hair sticking to her sweaty face as Voldemort relentlessly kept her under the Cruciatus curse.

He could feel despair crush him as he helplessly watched her body breaking underneath the curse. She wouldn’t be able to take much more, but Draco had the feeling that Voldemort was planning on torturing her to death. Even though he knew in the most logical part of his brain he could do nothing to help her, Draco still took a tiny step forward causing his mother’s hand to latch onto his forearm painfully. 

With being incapable of doing anything to help her, Draco shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on anything but Ember’s screams. Though, quite suddenly, the laughter around him died and her screams turned into heart-wrenching sobs. His eyes snap back to the place on the floor, where her body had been convulsing just moments before, to see Ember curled into a tight ball. The change of action wasn’t for Voldemort’s mercy though. Ember’s body had an illuminated glow about it, pulsating softly, as if she was an angel of light.

Draco’s jaw dropped in shock. All attention turned to the Dark Lord who stared down at the girl curiously. He lifted his wand again sending another curse her way for nothing to happen. His slick eyes narrowed and, holding his wand up high, he shouted for good measure “CRUCIO!”

His full power was behind the curse and still it didn’t result in Ember’s torture. Her sobs became the only noise in the room as Voldemort paused, frowning at the girl. The glow around her was like a protective shield none other had ever seen before. 

Suddenly, the Dark Lord lowered his wand and straightened his back, an almost victorious smirk lifting his lips. “She’ll work perfectly.”


	8. In the Face of Death

“Oh, idle is the Devil’s hands when you’re waiting for change.”  
-Bishop Briggs, Hi-Lo (Hollow)

Three days. It had been three long days since The Dark Lord, and the Death Eaters, had vacated the manor. They left in the cursory way they always did when a meeting was declared over. Once Voldemort had finished studying the luminescent weeping girl on the floor, he clapped his hand in a dismissal. The followers filed out the old ballroom with ease as they walked around the unique crumpled girl. Voldemort stared down at her one final time before sending Draco a threateningly reflective glance. Draco wondered if the Dark Lord was rethinking his earlier statement, much like he himself was; perhaps it was him that wasn’t worthy of her.

Once he had disapparated, with Wormtail close behind him, Draco rushed to Ember’s still side. Her cries had turned into soft whimpers and the glow around her didn’t dissipate until he touched her neck to check for her pulse. It was racing although she was deadly still. Despite the sweat collected on her forehead, her skin was cold. She opened her eyes at his touch, only to look seemingly through him, before they rolled into the back of her head; leaving her unconscious. Terrified, Draco checked her pulse again, relieved to feel her heart slowly return to a steady beat.

He looked up at his parents. His mother hovered behind him, a small hand clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide. His father remained in the doorway, eyes glazed over, the gears in his head working overtime. Draco knew that look. It meant that his father was plotting his next move.

“Father?” Draco called unsurely, keeping his hand against her neck so that he could assuredly feel her heartbeat.

Lucius gaze refocused on his son crouched down next to the girl who was problematic only hours before. Now she was invaluable, even as she lay unconscious. “Get her upstairs,” He told his family before disapparating himself.

~

It had been three days since she was conscious. Draco had carried her up to her bedroom and rarely left her side. His mother had helped evaluate her physical state, but sept for a few bruises she appeared physically fine. She suggested that maybe her mind was taking some extra time to recuperate. 

It didn’t satisfy Draco. He didn’t like that she remained silent like the grave and looked as if she had one foot six feet under. Her face was the palest he had ever seen her and she had a low-grade fever despite how her skin was cold to the touch. Unlike weeks before, his mother didn’t have to force him to watch over her; he happily lingered in her room.

There wasn’t an explanation as to how she managed to create a shield from the Dark Lord. It placed an answer on the question that while maybe she didn’t possess the standard magic abilities she certainly wasn’t a squib. While it was extraordinary and seemed to impress Voldemort enough not to kill her, it was apparently trivial enough to be low on the list of anyone’s priorities.

Not on Draco’s though. He was a bundle of anxiety the longer she remained unconscious. He tried to keep himself busy so as to not sit beside her and reach for her pulse for the thousandth time but he always found himself at her side, her hand in his, caressing the inside of her wrist as it thrummed softly. 

~

Ember stirred early in the afternoon the fourth day after the Dark Lord arrived unannounced at the manor. The sun was blocked out by a cloudy day and she groaned as she woke feeling out of sorts.

She was cold. Her body didn’t feel numb or sore, but she was shivering deep in her bones. It felt heavy as if she was made out of lead and her movements were stiff as she stretched her arms high above her head. She blinked roughly, hoping it would soothe her throbbing head, and licked her chapped lips. Her throat was dry and when she looked to her nightstand she scowled at the empty glass.

She grumbled, berating herself for not filling the glass before she fell asleep, and threw her legs over the side of her bed. She immediately felt lightheaded the second she stood up, the throbbing in her head turning into violent pounding. She blinked a few more times before grumpily grabbing her glass and walking into her washroom. 

She turned on the tap, letting the water slowly fill her glass. It was only when she saw her reflection in the mirror that she paused. There were dark circles underneath her dim eyes and her skin looked incredibly dull, her cheek bones slightly more prominent. Her hair was a tangled mess, as if she hadn’t brushed it in days. She knew she hadn’t looked like this when she had fallen asleep.

The water overflowing the glass broke her out of her critical inspection. She grumbled, pouring the excess water out and placing it on the counter. The taste in her mouth was atrocious and she methodically brushed her teeth, pondering why she felt so odd. When her breath was minty fresh, she finally took multiple gulps from her water, effectively emptying it, immediately feeling her headache begin to subside.

She refilled her glass and slowly re-entered her bedroom. Only this time Draco was stood in her doorway with a shocked expression. She frowned at him, wondering why he was entering her room unannounced. He looked tired, with circles under his own eyes almost as dark as hers. His mouth was open, as if he was about to say something, but she looked back into his eyes and saw a hint of hysteria that sent her mind reeling back to his panic filled gaze days prior. 

It all came back to her in a rush of memories. Draco telling her to hide, his father finding her, the people gathered in the open room. The laughter, the ugly face of evil, the pain. It hit her at once and caused her already struggling legs to snap underneath her. 

The ground was coming up fast, her water sloshing all over her before crashing on the floor, but Draco was faster. He saw realization flash across her face and her tip forward. He reflexively strode towards her just in time to catch her arms, allowing her to rebalance herself. 

She gasped in his arms, her eyes huge. He quickly moved her back to sit on her bed, careful of the broken glass, and sat across from her. His hand reached for her forehead, feeling that her low fever had broken. “How are you feeling?” He asked. 

She flinched at his hand on her face and it wasn’t just because his fingers were cold.

Draco frowned. “Hey, it’s alright.”

Her breathing was picking up in a sure-fire sign of the beginnings of a panic attack. Her fingers were digging into his forearm painfully as she began to shake. Her eyes frantically began scanning the room before they started searching Draco’s face. “Hey, he isn’t here, alright? He can’t hurt you.” He explained, hoping it would calm her down. He didn’t mention the fact that he would most definitely hurt her in the future. 

Her eyes quickly filled with tears as she choked around a sob, “Draco, I…”

The water cascaded down her cheeks in thick droplets and he cursed himself silently. He had been so concerned about her physical health that he hadn’t contemplated the banging her sanity would take. He couldn’t help her. He had no experience with comforting people, much less those had been tortured by Voldemort himself. “Shh, it’s alright. Okay? You’re safe.” His hand instinctually drew soft circles on her arm that had yet to release him.

She took a few deep shuttering breaths. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to suppress the hiccups that were quickly rising in her chest. “How?! How is it safe?” She hissed.  
He held his tongue. She was right.

She let his arm drop and covered her face with her hands. She could still feel the electric current of pain rushing through her veins like poison, could hear the manic laughter of the crowd. “I don’t understand. Who is he?”

“I know, I know,” Draco whispered moving some of her hair away from her face, hoping she’d lower her hands. “This is partly my fault and I should have told you before-“  
“You knew this would happen?” She lowered her hands, just as she lowered her voice, her eyes accusing, just as her tone.

He gulped, quickly backtracking. “No! I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t know that my parents hadn’t cleared our marriage with him. I didn’t know that he would find out you are, or you were.” He shook his head. “That you were a squib.”

She grabbed her forehead tiredly, refusing to meet his eyes. “Who is he?” She repeated.

He paused, licking his lip and taking a deep breath. “He’s the Dark Lord.” He said simply. “Lord Voldemort. He, and his followers, the Death Eaters, believe in the superiority in our pure-blood.  
There was a Wizarding War that ended just before you were born. The Dark Lord was killed, or so we all thought, and the Death Eaters disbanded until he returned a year ago.”

She had never given much thought to the fact that there could have been bad wizards in the world. She shook her head, of course she would be naïve enough to not consider the possibility. She glanced up at him. “So you’re one of them?”

He didn’t like the way she said it, as if it was dishonorable.

“Yeah,” He summed, “I guess I am.” He had the brand to prove it but highly doubted that right now would be the best time to reveal it to her.

Ember tried to recall all that had happened that night. The pain was easy to recall, the discussions less so. It was like using chopsticks to pick up a single grain of rice, not impossible but a frustrating task. One phrase stood out though; our once loyal allies.

“Were my parent’s…Death Eaters?” She asked in a daze.

He nodded. “They were, but once Voldemort vanished they…drifted from the path. I don’t know the whole story. All I know is that when he returned, your parents were no longer in his inner circle.”

“How can you be one of them.” She whispered more to herself than to him, but he heard it all the same. It placed a bitter taste in his mouth, the way she immediately wrote off his entire family’s beliefs. He had to remind himself that all of this was new to her, she would need more time to fully form opinions.

She didn’t mean to offend him. Her mind was relentless though, only playing the memory of blurred faces laughing, mocking her misery while she laid helpless on the ground and he was there. The Draco she had begun to trust had just stood on the sidelines and watched her being tortured. It wasn’t something she would forget.

Draco hung his head. He had struggled in recent years with being a Malfoy. The name came with a heavy burden he hadn’t truly wanted to bare. He hadn’t wanted to be under Voldemort’s command, he hadn’t wanted to be thrust with mountains of responsibility. He hadn’t been given another choice. Just as she had been born for him, he had been born to be a Death Eater.

“I didn’t have a choice,” was his only argument, and though it was the truth, he knew that it didn’t absolve anything.

“There’s always a choice.”

He wanted to shake her. No there wasn’t! Not always! Instead, he rolled up his sleeve and presented his dark mark to her. She looked at him for a long moment before she hesitantly reached out and traced her index finger along the twisting snake.

He shuddered under her finger. No one had touched his mark before. In fact, no one had seen his mark since his initiation. His mother hadn’t wanted to look at it and his father hadn’t been around. She stared at the terrifying mark with quiet eyes before glancing up at him through her lashes. “There’s always a choice.”

~

Ember was fully recovered by the next morning with the exception of the cold that seemed to never go away. When she stepped out of her room, she was surprised to see that nothing had changed. She wasn’t quite sure what she had been expecting when she left the small comfort of her room. Maybe she thought that there would be blood stains on the walls, or that she would run into unfriendly faces covered by silver masks, neither of which she encountered.

Draco had told her the truth. The Death Eaters did not remain at Malfoy Manor; not even Mr. Malfoy. She was safe for the time being, but she knew they would return and safety, even precarious safety, was not truly safe enough for her. Draco had explained the intrigue Voldemort had shown towards her, had explained that what she had done, while impressive, was not normal. It just added another level to this new life- another obstacle. She supposed she should be happy though, her powers were the only reason she was still alive. She was the only reason she was alive, her and her alone. 

Regardless, nothing had physically changed in the manor. Only the way Ember viewed the estate. It was becoming more of a prison the longer she stayed, one that she didn’t think she would ever get parole from.

She had apparently slept in for when she reached the dining room, the table had already been cleaned and cleared. She frowned before she heard clinking of china coming from the sitting room.  
She entered the room to see Narcissa enjoying a cup of tea at the table, flipping through an extensive magazine of some sort. She looked up when she heard Ember enter. “Oh, dear I’m so glad to see you up and about.”

She wanted to doubt the sincerity of her statement but she was such a sweet woman to Ember and always had been. She wondered how she fit into the mold of the dark wizards.

Ember sat down across from her. “What are you looking at?”

“Oh, I’m looking at bridal magazines dear.”

“Isn’t it a little premature to be looking at bridal magazines?” Ember questioned.

Narcissa slowly looked up from the beautiful flower arrangement photographed in the latest summer issue. “Well, it’s getting late into August. The wedding needs to happen soon before the Dark lord takes matters into his own hands.”

Ember wanted to wince, groan, and slam her fist on the table. It was all becoming too much; wizards, marriage, powers, an antagonist ripe off the Bestsellers List. She took a deep breath, painting on a faint fake smile and asked if she could help.


	9. Best-laid Plans

“There are thieves, who rob us blind; and Kings, who kill us fine, but steady the rights and the wrongs and bathe us in innocent song. I’m not ready. I’m not ready for the weight of us.”  
-Sanders Borhlke, The Weight of Us

The heat was stifling when Voldemort returned. It happened without a warning. One moment Ember was drinking tea with Mrs. Malfoy gazing half-heartedly at ceremonial details and then the next a green flash flamed the fireplace.

Mr. Malfoy stepped into the sitting room, his eyes hurriedly taking in the area, before gliding forward his eyes landing on his wife. “Where is Draco?” He spoke gruffly.

Ember realized that she had been tallied without a glance. Granted her last encounter with the manor’s patriarch had been a less than warm introduction, some part of her believed that without the oppression of the Dark Lord she might have warranted a less jarring welcoming. Then again she had been living in this man’s home for months and with the situation at hand perhaps they were past such pleasantries.

Narcissa stood resolutely as her eyes hardened and calculated her husband. “He’s just upstairs finishing his summer essays.”

His robes blew around him as he rushed towards the foyer and bellowed, “Draco!”

Ember suddenly felt soft hands glide over to rest on her shoulders as Narcissa floated behind her. She supposed that it was intended to be a comforting gesture when really they were just light enough to be disconcerting. “What is happening, Lucius?” She implored.

Lucius’s head twisted back towards the sitting room; jaw clenched, back rigid, eyes flickering towards the stranger in his home. Ember had to look down feeling severely out of place. Only then did she realize that her hands were trembling causing the delicate teacup to clink against its’ saucer. 

Faster than Ember thought possible, Draco appeared in the entryway breathing hard and with his hair disheveled as if he had been continuously running his hands through it. His eyes darted around the room frantically causing Ember’s trembling to double.

“He’s on his way. I managed to convince him to let me return first. He won’t wait any longer,” Lucius explained.

“You don’t convince him of anything.” Draco uttered sounding much more courageous than he looked.

His father glared at his remark and Ember felt Narcissa’s nails begin to dig into her exposed shoulders. “We were supposed to have a few more weeks…” Draco’s mother whispered, crushed.

“It’s nothing short of a miracle he didn’t kill her when he found out she was a Knight,” His eyes flickered to the girl who resembled an autumn leaf clinging to summer. She met his gaze with wide eyes. “He has insisted he ordain the marriage.”

Narcissa gasped, seeming to suck all the air out of the room. Ember glanced to Draco to find that he was already staring at her. His face had gone three shades paler, his eyes wild.

“This is outrageous! Lucius, he cannot expect us to agree to this! We have a vow to uphold! This was not going to be a dark wedding. I forbid it. They are just children!” She implored to her husband, finally stepping out from behind Ember and stalking towards him.

“You cannot argue this!” He spat out, “The vow will not be broken. Our feelings on the matter are of no consequence! He will be here any moment.” His words were final and would not be refuted.

Ember only processed that by tonight she would be married and it seemed as if it was going to be anything but a pleasant affair. Quickly she realized that the Malfoy’s seemed to be as terrified as she felt and that in itself was a less than comforting thought. She supposed it was ultimately better where she was concerned that they feared the Dark Lord, rather than greet his malice with welcomed arms. She had a million questions and a thousand scenarios run through her brain yet she dared not speak. Soon the figure that had been haunting her thoughts would be fully present, she only hoped that the pain this time would be minimal. With a small sigh, she sealed any curiosities to be contained. 

Narcissa rushed out of the room without another word. Ember could hear her sobs echo behind her. Lucius turned towards Draco, placing a hand on his shoulder and held eye contact for a brief moment before disappearing after her.

Draco visibly deflated before reaching his hand out to her beckoning her towards him. Quicker than she processed she was at his side. He placed his hands on her shoulders where only a few moments ago his mothers had been. His grip was strong and she only hoped that his strength would be able to soak through into her skin. He tilted his head forward so that their eyes were level and whispered, “Do as your bid. Don’t speak unless spoken to and whatever happens stay next to me.”

She nodded quickly as she felt her throat tighten, suddenly there was a dulled crack heard through the front windows. Her eyes widened as his left hand flattened between her shoulder blades and quickly ushered her towards the dining room. 

~

The Dark Lord strode through the manor in a sickly snake like fashion. His eyes were gleeful and his smile wide as he sensed the apprehension in the air. Tonight was going to be fun on more than one account and he could not wait for it to begin.

The moment Ember heard heavy footsteps in the hall she inhaled deeply, and soon Death Eaters filed into the dining room finding their seemingly assigned places. She looked up once to take in Draco’s reaction to see that he seemed just as robotic as the rest of the present company.

The two of them were standing on the far side of the room by the windows behind the seated Malfoy’s. The dining table separated the clan from omnipresent evil, as if the mahogany would be able to save them. 

She had not been able to fully gaze at them at their last encounter but now she took the moment to study these wizards. They didn’t necessarily look as heinous as she has originally thought, rather like they more or less breathed the color black; black clothes, black eyes, black nails, black hair. Only now did she realize that Draco was wearing black as well. In fact, she was the only one to be wearing a different color. Her pale green dress seemed to shine attention on to her. She wished she had worn black.

The Dark Lord had not dropped his eerie smile as he took his seat at the head of the table, the rest of the death eaters taking the cue to seat themselves. Once settled, you could hear a pin drop, the tension in the atmosphere pulled tight. The twin doors seemingly closed of their own accord, enclosing all. Ember felt like a bird caged.

“You have been gathered this evening to witness an extraordinary binding of souls. One, I dare say, that has not occurred in nearly two decades.” The Dark Lord began, narrow eyes dancing methodically over his constituents. “One that I didn’t receive an invite to, nor approve of…initially,” His eyes flashed to the young couple before settling on Ember, his grin widening. She swore from this distance that his teeth had been filed into fangs. “But no matter, no matter,” He brandished a delicate hand in the air as if waving away a blemish, “an unbreakable vow is an unbreakable vow.”

Suddenly Ember felt a pair of coal black eyes focused on her figure. She slowly glanced around the table, for no one was particularly looking at her the moment Voldemort’s words sliced the air, and yet three chairs down from the Dark Lord himself sat a man that was openly staring at her. 

He had long black hair that shown in the candlelight more than his peers. She guessed that it had been due to excess grease, or perhaps a mishap of mousse. He had a long crooked nose that pointed towards his acute chin, and thin lips spread into an even thinner line. Even when she caught his eye, his stare never wavered. 

Movement caught in her peripheral causing her to look towards the ground instinctually only to immediately regret it. How could she have forgotten about the snake? It slowly slithered on the ground in front of their feet as if doing a perimeter check. Draco shifted closer to her sensing her distress. Granted, the snake was the least of her problems presently.

The Dark Lord stood up gracefully and ever so swiftly glided his wand through the air. The chair he had once occupied shot straight backwards till it slammed into the wall causing Ember to jump and without thinking clasp onto Draco’s hand. 

After realizing that he wouldn’t reject her touch, she took a moment to feel his fingers beneath hers, perfectly smooth and steady unlike hers that still felt twitchy even as his palm encased hers. His fingers suddenly laced with hers and tugged her forward towards the head of the table.

She gulped loudly and wondered if they could hear how hard her heart beat in her chest. She numbly let her feet follow Draco’s as if she was a sheep being led to the slaughter. 

They stopped at the head of the table facing the Dark Lord’s wide, ironically, welcoming arms; all eyes awkwardly fixed on them. With a sharp flick of the wrist a long piece of parchment appeared from thin air and slowly drifted towards the table.

The Dark Lord’s eyes focused on Draco and indicated that he stand in front of Ember on the other side of him so that they would be face to face. He squeezed her hand tightly once before it slipped from hers. Instantly she felt alone.

A wand suddenly traced up and down her arm and she tried not to recoil. She tried to focus on what was directly in front of her instead of the slithering being at her side. Draco’s face was all she could let herself focus on.

His jaw was clenched so hard that it looked painful, his grey eyes might as well have been cut from ice, and his skin was getting paler by the second. If she only focused on him, perhaps this would end faster. She had no idea how wizard marriages were preformed, much less how a dark marriage would be performed, but from what she gathered from the fleeting conversation earlier it couldn’t be pleasant.

A skeletal finger slowly brushed her hair back from her shoulder exposing her neck. No doubt he could now see her heart sprinting frantically. “How have you been my enigma?” He whispered in her ear, wand continuing to trail up and down her left arm. His gaze suddenly shifting up towards Draco, “Have your hosts been hospitable?” 

It was the first time he had ever spoken to her directly and she couldn’t quite tell if his tone was rhetorical or not. Knowing that her words had escaped her long ago she quickly bobbed her head up and down, her skin feeling cold and dirty as his words flowed over her skin.

The Dark Lord hummed in approval before glancing down at her bare arm, “I believe your arm is missing something,” He practically purred. Draco managed to take a miniscule step forward before the Dark Lord flashed his eyes at him warningly before a grin once again spread across his face. As quick as it happened, Draco froze and his eyes softened against Ember’s.

Just as the tip of his wand intentionally stopped in the middle of her left forearm and began to send soft trails of pain to her skin, did someone stand up; chair screeching daringly.

Immediately all eyes flew to the soul who dare tamper with the Dark Lords wish and confusion flew through Ember as she noticed that it had been the man who had been openly staring at her earlier that had broken the trance. Quickly and adamantly he spoke in a raspy voice, “I don’t think it wise my Lord. At least not until we can be sure it will not affect her negatively.”

Ember, who could only tell that something sinister was about to occur, gazed at the man who was courageous enough to stand up against the Dark Lord in awe.

Needless to say, the wand did lift from her skin after a moment, taking the initial pain with it. “Ah, perhaps you are right Severus. We still know next to nothing about my little enigma. Wouldn’t want to damage or diminish such a raw form of...” He paused his face pulling into a frown as if trying to think of a satisfactory word before slightly narrowing his eyes and stating, “power.” Another pause caused him to regain himself, “No matter, there will be plenty of time for that later.”

His presence retracted slowly and Ember could already feel just a tip of the mountain of stress leave her body before sharp like a vipers’ attack had his wand pointed its tip to her jugular and she was struck as if she was being electrocuted. 

Her mouth opened in a silent scream as her body froze to stone. The crowd looked at her astonished as dark lines flowed just under her skin. It was as if marble was cracking, as if he was injecting something into her veins. Not a few seconds later had the pain subsided, her body glowing that remarkable glow, and she snapped her head to the side, involuntarily letting out a vicious hiss towards the Dark Lord.

He recoiled quickly and clapped his hands in delight, marveling at her in her element. “Beautiful!” He exclaimed.

Ember suddenly came back to herself, her luminescence diminishing instantly, gasping as her eyes reconnected with a horrified Draco. His mouth was open, his jaw finally relaxed. She quickly adverted her gaze towards his dress shoes.

The Dark Lord retracted from her further to place himself back in between the couple, front and center. She thought numbly that it did resemble an altar of sorts if you counted the table as an aisle. The long piece of parchment flattened against the table as the Dark Lord reached between them and dragged his wand against it. Slowly words began to paragraph, written by an invisible source. She wished that she was close enough to read what the paper said for you should never sign a contract without reading it first. 

The Dark Lord straightened back to his full height and Draco reached his left hand across the gap reaching for hers. Only now did Ember realize that he had rolled up his long sleeves revealing that dark tattoo against his pale skin. She had only seen it once before and wondered if that was the reason he always seemed to wear long sleeves in the middle of the summer. Only then did it connect that that is what the Dark Lord was about to do to her not moments before. She was suddenly even more grateful to the man who had disrupted the branding. 

Her hand met Draco’s and they laced their fingers together once more in front of the quiet audience. She thought for a moment that they would lace their other hands as well but the thought quickly disappeared as the Dark Lord raised his wand in front of their hands. It would have been nice if she had been aware of how a wizard, much less a dark wizard, marriage was preformed, but as her eyes returned to Draco she realized that maybe he didn’t even know how this process worked either. That thought, true or false, comforted her more than a little. She wasn’t in this situation entirely alone. She never had been.

The Dark Lord slowly began to hiss. Ember furrowed her brow as it sounded like he was speaking completely illegible language. Gently magical tendrils of white began to travel up their forearms and connected; surrounding their hands. It didn’t hurt, in fact it almost tickled, as she felt Draco’s hand tighten around hers a fraction.

Abruptly the white tendrils faded to black and she felt a distinctive pinch on the delicate skin inside of her ring finger. Slowly blood began to pour down her hand. She gasped as Draco flinched, his grip becoming painful.

A small cauldron magically appeared and floated underneath their clasped hands capturing their combining blood; a quill appearing on the table. 

“Repeat,” The Dark Lord declared, “Yours. Mine. Ours. With this everlasting vow I pledge my life to yours.” She didn’t really notice that she and Draco began repeating. 

“As your spouse,” He continued, “I vow to obey, defend, and honor you from this day until my last under the laws of our savior Lord Voldemort and his indivisible dominion.”  
The couple mimicked his words, the soft tendrils changing color again to a bright blood red. “Poena mortis amorem perpetuum. Haec votum vovit indissolubili sociavit.” (to love upon penalty of death. This vow unbreakable)

Ember tripped over the words having never spoken Latin, Draco’s voice was just as bad as hers. Suddenly their hands, that felt as if they were glued together, pushed apart by an outside force, the tendrils fading as they brought their hands back to their sides.

The Dark Lord grasped the quill before dipping it delicately in the cauldron waiting a bit longer than necessary for their combined blood to supply as ink. He lifted the quill and scribbled something to the bottom of the parchment. Ember’s stomach flipped with nausea at how utterly savage this ceremony was.

Everything stood still. No one in the room dared to breathe, as the Dark Lord who separated the couple stood over the parchment waiting for something. It took only a moment before the parchment illuminated a pink glow from their blood. The Death Eaters began to cheer. Ember felt a sudden weight on her chest. It wasn’t uncomfortable, on the contrary it was as comforting as if a blanket wrapped around her soul and snuggled in.

Ember stared at Draco who looked down at his hand, flexing his fist.

“Now,” The Dark Lord began as he glided towards the twin doors seemingly done with the couple for the moment. “Act two,” Slowly he turned his black eyes back to Ember, who had unconsciously closed the space between herself and Draco. He gazed at her condescendingly, “You didn’t think that I would forget about them did you? Of course, a young girl’s parents should be present on her wedding day!”

The doors opened and two Death Eaters entered dragging a figure between them before stopping in front of the Dark Lord. The figure glanced up and Ember tensed upon seeing her father, a man who she had never seen less than structured, in a compromising situation. His eyes were bloodshot with dark circles surrounding his green irises. His short hair was a mess, his clothes rumpled, and no shoes graced his feet. His eyes met hers and for just a moment she saw a vulnerability that unsettled her further.

Swiftly, the Dark Lord raised his wand and her father slowly raised off the ground, the guarding Death Eaters retreating. His limbs became tight around his torso almost as if an invisible boa constrictor squeezed. His almost transparent skin began to turn a deathly lavender.

“Where should I even begin?” The Dark Lord spat as he circled his prey.

Ember’s blood froze in her veins as she cowered closer to Draco. His tone had changed from delicate to cutthroat. Nothing good would come of this.

“How about how in Albania you deceived me with your overzealous words? Crowing on and on about how a diadem was not worthy enough of me? How that damned wife of yours, oh yes I haven’t forgotten about her, refused her duty?” He slashed his wand through the air and lacerations began to form unceremoniously across Blaine’s skin growing larger and larger by the second. The Dark Lord began to pace softly across the hard wood floors.

Ember started at the violence and suddenly realized that her mother was not present, and absently wondered what it meant. Had she been murdered?

“Then you vanish, leaving not a trace and taking the diadem, my diadem, for yourself. But you failed at what only I could achieve didn’t you, Blaine? Years later do I acquire the diadem, no thanks to you, only to discover that it had been tampered with. And damn did it not take some irreversible consequences to get it back up to snuff. Set me back nearly two years!” He paused, his next words coming off as tiresome, “It makes no difference, I succeeded where you could not, but you cowardly weasel! Evading me.” He snarled, “Tell me how long did you think you would keep going on borrowed time? You must have celebrated thinking that I had died. How foolish of you. 

“And after all of that destructive nonsense you came crawling back from whatever rock you hid under to Lucius, begging forgiveness for your transgressions. You see he is not who you should’ve been begging, Knight.” With a flick of the wrist, Blaine’s left arm lifted from his body and Ember could see that he bore the same dark mark that Draco had. She had never seen it on him before and wondered idly if everyone in this room had been branded. The Dark Lord raised his wand up high and with a quick slash he amputated Blaine’s arm from the elbow down. The pale limb dropped to the ground twitching as a waterfall of blood poured over it.

Ember gasped and took a step forward only to feel Draco’s arm wrap around the front of her chest and pull her back into his chest. She grabbed his wrist with both of her hands trying to suppress the sob that had been steadily growing in the back of her throat since she heard that crack out the window.

The Dark Lord turned his eyes finding Lucius in an incredulous glare, “And you gave him shelter! Offered to what? Sweep everything under the rug and why? So you could have a precious pure-blood bride for your son?” He nonchalantly nodded his head, “Noble cause Lucius- foolish delivery.” He took a moment to gaze at her deformed father. Blaine’s screams etched across his face yet they remained silent. Shaking his head did he turn, opening his arms widely towards the Death Eaters.

“And so secretly an unbreakable vow is made and Mrs. Knight magically gives birth to a girl. How wonderful! Of course, the baby girl is deemed incompetent. Because, apparently, as you’ll soon find out, karma is a snake-like bitch, Blaine.” He grinned without humor, “But an unbreakable vow is and unbreakable vow and she is pure-blood. What were the Malfoy’s to do? Refuse and die? How fortunate for you. You seemed to always worm your way into getting exactly what you wanted hm?” He grabbed Blaine’s chin tightly pinching, “Everything always works out for you one way or another, doesn’t it?” He dramatically slapped his face to right. Her father gazed her way ostensibly, not able to focus on anything.

“Now what neither of you my once loyal followers comprehended was my return. Didn’t quite calculate that now did you?” He looked between the two men; one completely immobile and the other as white as a ghost, and returned to circling his prey. “Yet you deny my call? Even Lucius isn’t quite that daft, Blaine. Had you come at my most dyer hour, we perhaps could have worked things out; maybe your betrayal could have been amended, but alas that is not how things worked out, was it? No, and you two cowards decided to betray me again and not fill me in on this vow.”  
Lord Voldemort whose back had been hunched in a predatory stance slowly straightened and paced towards the couple, seemingly admiring his wand. “Now I had every intention to kill your spawn to dissolve this vow, but once again you are extremely fortunate that she,” His gaze flickered to Ember before returning to his wand, “is entirely extraordinary beyond our, or your, wildest beliefs and that this marriage will end up benefiting me greatly. You best believe that she will prove useful to me. But you? Your usefulness has weighed thin. Anything to say for yourself?”  
Suddenly as if a gag order had been lifted her father began sobbing, “I only ever wanted to serve, please I beg you, I will do anything you bid! Nothing will ever-”

Quick as smoke, The Dark Lord turned and shouted, “Avada Kedavra!”

A strong flash of green and Blaine Knight’s body fell crashing against the floor like stone. Ember shivered in Draco’s embrace; speechless.

~

That night Ember was grateful that her and Draco would share quarters from here on out. She knew logically that she had gone into shock as she lay there under the soft covers. Regardless, she was content to know that Draco would lay next to her throughout the night while the recurring nightmare remained just downstairs. He would remain by her side until death separated them, because with her seldom knowledge of Latin she understood now that a dark marriage was a form of an unbreakable vow. And she had gathered throughout the evening that if you broke an unbreakable vow you died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF PART ONE


	10. The Shifting of the Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART TWO
> 
> In which, she was his courage and he was her security.

“Take me to the docks, there’s a ship without a name there and it is sailing to the middle of the sea. The water there is deeper than anything you’ve ever seen. Jump right in and swim until you’re free.”  
-Benjamin Francis Leftwich, Atlas Hands

It was strange that there was a body next to his.

Draco woke up before her feeling as if he hadn’t slept a wink. His body ached from all the tension of the night before. He rolled his shoulders and rubbed at the back of his neck in exhaustion. It had all happened so quickly. One moment he had been a boy and the next he was eternally tied to another. The whiplash was brutal; the clarity hollow.

He ran his hand through his hair scratching at his scalp softly. He gazed down at his left hand; written in elegant script, her script, inside his ring finger was her name. Ember. His wife.

He knew nothing of dark marriages, only that they had exclusively happened during the Wizarding War before he was born. He supposed it made more sense for their names to be carved into one another than traditional superficial rings. It made sense that their blood had sealed their vows. It even made sense that a dark marriage resembled an unbreakable vow. 

It was clear now why they had to get married. His parents had only told him that they had made a deal with the Knight’s to keep the blood lines pure. It made logical sense, as the years passed pure-blooded wizards were few and far between. No one had thought to inform him was that all of this was due to an unbreakable vow.

He didn’t know the full consequences of a dark marriage. He doubted anyone really knew, for even though dark marriages had been performed before, he knew of no one living who had one.  
Merlin, he was married. He had had over two years to prepare and yet he only felt as if he was barely treading water. Voldemort had clearly complicated things. They were just supposed to be married to eventually keep bloodlines pure and now there were agendas. 

He had struggled for weeks after his initiation. It had been a mixture of pride with a lingering sense of dread. He was the youngest Death Eater to be initiated and that had to mean something. Every time he saw the dark mark on his arm he was reminded of what he had to do once back at Hogwarts. The tasks dealt to him were his responsibility and his alone. It was a heavy weight that he was proud to shoulder. That didn’t mean that his arm didn’t phantomly ache all the time even after it had healed. 

Draco looked back at the sleeping girl. The second Voldemort pressed his wand into her arm he felt a type of possessive anger he had never felt before. It pulsed through him in violent waves and yet he knew he could do nothing about it. He was grateful Snape had advised against it. She wouldn’t be able to evade the initiation forever, but it was one more thing she didn’t have to go through last night. 

She twitched in her sleep and curled one hand underneath her chin. Her pink lips were parted slightly and her long eye lashes fluttered over her cheeks in her dreams. It would all change now. All of her stuff had already been moved into his room, effectively making it their room. Never again would he be able to have the sanctuary of his own space. 

He found that at the moment it didn’t bother him as much as it probably should have. He could easily place himself in her shoes and felt horrible for her. She had nothing. Because her life had been tied to his from conception, she had nothing. Now her idiotic father was gone, who the fuck knows where her mother was, and her entire world was different from anything she had ever known. She was only fifteen and she had nothing. Well, not nothing, he thought. She has me. And, Merlin, he knew he wasn’t good enough.

His chest constricted painfully at her reaction to her father’s demise. Once dead, Voldemort had whistled for Nagini, who quickly devoured her dinner- detached arm and all. Ember’s legs had given out from underneath her as Voldemort strode back through the doors and headed for their dungeons.

He had crouched down with his arm still around her as she silently sobbed. He had awkwardly rubbed her back in hopes that it brought a little comfort to her as the Death Eaters followed their master from the room, glancing at them as they passed.

His mother had bent down next to them and placed a hand on his shoulder gazing at him pityingly as tears of her own traced down her cheeks. She didn’t speak and Draco didn’t need her to. He knew that this was not how she imagined her son’s life. 

He shook his head and stood up from the bed walking across the cold floor to the window. His room looked out over the back of the manor. This time of year, the morning air was always dewy as the air misted over the greenery. The grass would be damp until the summer sun dried it completely. His eyes caught a flock of white doves fly past; their wings flapping rapidly.

He had to protect her. She was his responsibility now and her being un-educated just wasn’t going to pass anymore. He had been told that it was better keeping her in the dark for as long as possible. He hadn’t cared at the time because it didn’t matter to him. Weeks ago, he wouldn’t have cared about anything that affected her. But that was before he got to know her. Before he spent sun-kissed afternoons in the back garden with her shy laughter, before he learned that being with her was far better than ignoring her, and before her warmth had soaked into and covered him with shivers. Before he had fully understood that they were tied together much more than the average wizard.

The adults who had designed their fate had been idiots. From not telling Voldemort, to creating an unbreakable vow in the first place. Complete idiots. And for their idiocy, he and Ember had become pawns of a much larger game than anyone anticipated. What a wedding present! 

She had to know. She had to know everything. The wizarding world and it’s first war, the duty of the Death Eaters, and even the part that Harry Potter played. She needed to know it all, and now that she was married to him he would make sure that she was never intentionally left in the dark again- lest it get her killed.

And when she woke up he did. They remained sitting in their bed for days as he described his world in-depth with historical facts and personal stories. 

He gave her an abbreviated description of his fellow Death Eaters so that she wouldn’t be in a room full of strangers the next time. He explained the backstory of the house Black and how his mother and his Aunt Bellatrix had become involved in their ancestral claim. He gave her a very rough depiction of Fenrir Greyback and his werewolf identity. He described Dolohov, Macnair, Rowle, and the annoying Carrow twins in quick succession.

He told her stories of his years at Hogwarts. How Crabbe and Goyle had become attached to his side the very first night in the boys dormitories. How he hated the Forbidden Forest after having to serve his first detention with the golden trio and the big oaf. How Quidditch worked and how he had come so close to beating Potter in his first match second year. He told her about the Triwizard Tournament and the sobering moment at the end of the maze when the Hufflepuff boy returned dead. He briefly told her about the nuisance that was Pansy Parkinson and the simplicity that came with Blaise Zabini. He even indulged the events of the year before, how he had been hand-picked by Dolores Umbridge for the Inquisitorial Squad. Expressing the personal ramifications of Potter and his gang meeting the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries just a few months before.

It seemed to flow easily out of his mouth with no real hesitation. He told her everything he could think of. She listened patiently, soaking up everything he offered. 

Well, almost everything. 

He couldn’t bring himself to tell her about how Voldemort gave him a specific mission to kill his headmaster before the end of the year. Eventually he would have to tell her, but right now with how much she already had to absorb he thought that it could wait for a different time. Or, at least that’s what he told himself. He didn’t want to know her opinion on the tasks; he didn’t want her to look at him differently. He just wanted to keep his struggles to himself for just a little longer.

Voldemort, and the Death Eaters, stayed at the manor just under a week. They had to keep moving from safe house to safe house. The massive outbreak from Azkaban, that included his father, had the ministry sending random visits to the manor and it was unsafe for the group to ever remain at the manor for too long.

Draco and Ember stayed in their room for the duration of the stay, each expecting the Dark Lord to call upon one or both of them. It loomed over their heads that they could be summoned at the drop of the hat but, rather fortunately, it never happened. Staying upstairs shielded them from the nightmares that took place downstairs.

Draco had to leave their sanctuary only once at the request of his father. By the time he returned to their room, with great news, Ember had been in the midst of a fully-fledged panic attack.  
Swaddled in their covers with her green eyes wide, she had flinched when she heard the door click behind him. Immediately upon seeing him did she reach her arms out to him. He complied and took three long strides before climbing into the bed and letting her hug him tightly until her breathing slowed. He never left her alone after that, until the Death Eaters had vacated the property.

She hadn’t even been happy when he had told her that she would be going to Hogwarts with him.

~

The first night after Voldemort’s departure, the Malfoy’s had a family dinner in a newly reorganized dining room. Draco had to give up his right arm to the clutches of Ember to even get her to consider leaving their room. Her nails dug into his bicep as they slowly walked down the stairs pausing at the bottom when her nervous eyes darted from him to the room that had snuffed out any good memories. Clearly she was a bit traumatized and he tried his best to be patient with her. 

As they entered, his father, who had been allowed to stay behind, caught his eye before staring at the girl that begrudgingly followed him. He never quite figured out how his father could look so pretentious and yet grovel the moment Voldemort stepped into the room.

He had always loved his father, always admired him. His strong-will take no shit attitude amongst his charming aristocratic presence seemed like a dream when he was younger. His father always had influence, always had power, and he could manipulate those around him as easy as he could unsheathe his wand.

Draco had ridden his coattails throughout his childhood, yet every time he tried to immolate him, he failed. His aspirations never truly amounted to the presence that was his father. He had a nagging feeling that the tender part of his heart that he had inherited from his mother would always hold him back from the pure power of his father.

His father had taught him everything; had tried to groom him into one day becoming the influential patriarch of the family. And when he had been taken from him and placed in Azkaban, Draco had been so lost. He always wanted to please his father, to not disappoint him, and without him as a guide he floundered. He couldn’t understand how someone with all the influence and all the connections, who had evaded convictions in the past, could end up in Azkaban. 

And not long after, Aunt Bella had visited his mother and brought up Voldemort’s expectation of Draco becoming a Death Eater. He sat on the staircase, eavesdropping, with his head in his hands as his mother cried.

The first time Draco had been admitted into a Death Eaters meeting was the first time he had seen his father since his trial. His eyes had been sunken in, wrinkles pulling his features like worn leather, his long hair grimy and left untied. 

He gave no notice that he saw his son except for the brief eye contact when he had entered. It was like he didn’t even know him. It was then that Draco saw his father for what he really was. He was just a man who wanted to climb the latter; who always wanted the best position; who selfishly would do anything to obtain it. 

Legacy above all he always said, we must keep up tradition. As Draco struggled through that first meeting one thing was quite clear as he departed the rundown apartment with his Aunt- the pedestal that he kept his father on had been shattered.

Ever since then everything had been about damage control. How to please Voldemort, how to gain what they had lost at the Department of Mysteries; how to keep them all alive. There were no words of comfort, no pieces of advice, rarely ever acknowledgement of his impending nuptials. Hell, he treated his nuptials as an after-thought.

They both sat down across the table from each other as several house-elves brought out their dinner. The air was stiff and dour. No one quite knew what to say after the horrific events. The sound of clinking cutlery echoed around the room.

He looked to Ember whose eyes were reserved for the piece of roast chicken she was absently pushing around her plate. She hadn’t been eating much lately and when he finally commented on it she waved his concern away stating that she had been too nauseous to have an appetite. She hadn’t said a word about what happened with her father and he most certainly wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up.

His mother’s soft voice broke his gaze as she said, “I thought tomorrow, Draco, Ember, and I would go to Diagon Alley. Get some things for the new year. Might be good for all of us to get out and about. Be good for Ember to see the shops…”

His father took a long sip of wine and titled his lips into a self-assuring smile. “I think that is a grand idea. She’ll be needing uniforms to be able to blend in, might be worth a stop into Ollivanders. No need to bring more attention than necessary.”

Draco coughed, the awkward tension grating against his nerves. “How are we, I mean she,” He sighed frustrated. “What is she expected to do at Hogwarts? I mean how are we even getting her into Hogwarts without beaming a damn spotlight on her?”

Lucius lips curled even higher staring at his son, who finally had begun to think things further than just the next step. “Severus has already spoken to Dumbledore. As far as he is concerned, you two have been married because of an unbreakable vow and she flew under the radar by being homeschooled all these years. Severus forged some scores for her.” 

Lucius took a moment to cough and placed his knife down. “Now Ember,” Her head shot up at being called to attention by the man she had yet to even properly meet. “You will be having lessons with Severus as requested by the Dark Lord. The best thing for you is to try and gain some insight on your…abilities, see how they can be beneficial to the Dark Lord.”

Draco was the only one who noticed how Ember’s hand shook slightly against the table cloth as she addressed his father with a meek, “Yes sir.”

Suddenly, feeling as if his own appetite escaped, he sighed and slumped further into his chair. 

~

Diagon Alley was bustling with activity, as it usually was this time of the year. Children ran up and down the cobblestones. The streets crowded with shoppers and parcels and laughter. The air was light as they passed by Gringotts, Flourish and Bolts, Broomstix, and the Apothecary.

They had all awakened earlier than necessary. Draco could have sworn Ember hadn’t even slept as she was quick to dress in their adjoining washroom and wait for him patiently. He supposed that she was excited to be getting out of the house that she had been trapped in all summer with nothing but a bunch of strangers. 

He had laughed at her expression the moment she realized that they would be using the Floo Network to get there. Her eyes had widened, hands clasped close to her dress, as she eyed the fire place doubtingly. She hadn’t bat so much as an eye with all the had told her and yet the Floo Network could warrant such a feared response. His mother had thrown a cloak over her shoulders so that she wouldn’t look so much like a muggle and went through the fire place first to show Ember how it was done.

“But what if I can’t do it?” She asked him seriously while biting her bottom lip as she cautiously stepped foot into the alcove of bricks. 

Understanding her fear, he shrugged a shoulder, “You probably have more magical ability than any of us. Just be confident, clear, and I’ll see you on the other side.” He mentally winced as he realized that confidence was definitely not her forte but tried to remain nonchalant as to not upset her further. Really he feared she would end up somewhere that was not Diagon Alley but there was no need to voice those fears to her.

The fears were needless as when Draco walked out on the other side Ember was standing next to his mother with a face so bright that he couldn’t help but smile at her and feel proud of such a small accomplishment.

As the trio eventually came to stop at Madam Malkin’s, Draco decided that it was the perfect moment to split up from the girls and escape to his own appointment. He excused himself and explained that he would meet up with them later. Ember had been excitedly roaming over the shop, not even noticing when he exited the shop. His mother watched him long after he left.

He took a deep calculated breath and nonchalantly made his way towards Knockturn Alley.

When he found the girls again he had already been frustrated. Greyback was not welcomed company and the thought of his gnashing teeth made for a quick reminder of the company that he kept nowadays. Macnair had been no better with his unwanted input and jittering fingers. The constant paranoia of feeling as if he was being watched had not helped matters, but when he saw his mother guide Ember towards Ollivanders he quickly moved through the crowd as quickly as he could. He grabbed his mother by the arm and steered her back towards Florean Fortescue’s and tried to not make eye contact with Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

His mother grasped his hand in astonishment as Draco rounded on her. “What do you think you were doing?” He whispered harshly, his blue eyes electric with incredulity. Ember, who had been all smiles, quickly became tight lipped and wrung her hands around a parcel nervously.

“Your Father said that we should stop by Ollivanders and-” Narcissa began only to have Draco cut her off. 

“I don’t care what father said. We aren’t taking her there. It draws too much attention and what happens when nosey Ollivander realizes that she can’t use a wand?” He hissed.

His mother sighed, “We don’t know that she can’t use a wand. Draco, she might need one at school.”

He shook his head fervently and clenched his jaw. “It’s too much of a risk. We can figure it out later if she needs a wand.”

His mother looked at him torn. She had to see his reasoning, but her husband had told her otherwise. It was becoming increasingly difficult to follow her husband’s directions without upsetting her son.

Ember, wanting nothing more than to go back to the nice peaceful day they had been having, piped up in a small but strong voice. “He’s right. If it will bring too much attention, it isn’t worth it.”  
His mother sighed but conceded and began to walk in the opposite direction of Ollivanders. Ember gave Draco a small reassuring smile, pushed her wind-blown hair out of her face and skipped back to his mother engaging her in conversation once again.

He sighed, feeling as if he had aged a decade, and followed after them.

~

Back at the manor that night Ember had been in a pleasant mood while he had been stuck in his head. He rested his back on their head board, letting his long legs stretch out as she fluttered around their room packing things into her newly bought trunk. She was prattling on about the day and everything that she had taken an interest in.

He was honestly getting quite annoyed with her chipper mood, especially as tomorrow loomed over them dauntingly, but he couldn’t be angry towards her when she positively glowed after her first positive interaction with the wizarding world.

It comforted him to some degree to see her settling; almost as if she was nesting. In fact, he found her positively endearing as she spoke warmly with his mother all afternoon. It was going to be so much easier to have someone in his corner, someone who knew what had happened this summer; to have someone he could confide in. She was the partner he did not want and yet was entirely grateful for.

As if she finally realized he was in a bad mood, she plopped down on their bed with a frown. “It will be okay. We’ll finally be away from here and all the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who. We’ll finally be able to relax. You said he can’t touch us there, so why are you so low?”

He sighed as he stared at her confused face. Now would be the perfect time to tell her that while yes it was safe, his entire purpose this year was to make it unsafe. Her cheeks were a tad rosy from her bustling and it highlighted the dust of freckles high on her cheek bones. Her green eyes sparkled as she looked at him happily and he couldn’t find it in him to tell her. She had had a good day and he didn’t want to ruin that.

So instead, he said, “Things are going to be different.” He cocked his head to the side and let a smirk raise his lips, “I don’t always bring a wife back to school with me.”

Suddenly the red on her cheeks turned two shades darker and she adverted her gaze to the duvet in between them. He laughed warmly at her innocent reaction and a moment later she smiled up at him, her cheeks still flamed.


	11. The Hope of Lighter Days

“I spent a long time watering a plant made out of plastic, and I cursed the ground for growing green.”  
-Halsey, Forever…(is a long time)

Now that it was done and she was married, it seemed to be the least of her worries. It almost seemed natural having Draco around all the time. He was the one who taught her, he was the one who calmed her, he was the one who was always there whether he tried to be or not. He was all she had. She knew that it wasn’t going to be sunshine and rainbows moving forward but she relaxed in the idea that since they had gone through such a traumatic experience together that their relationship, whatever it would be labeled, was stronger. 

Not even this was awkward, waking up next to him, sharing his warmth underneath the covers. She adored the way that his face would scrunch up in a pout whenever he drifted back towards consciousness. He was always so grumpy in the mornings. She imagined that it took him awhile to take everything in in the mornings, almost as if he had to re-download and update what his life would be each day. It didn’t happen often that she woke up before him, but when she did she liked to gaze at him unabashedly. She had to remember that as much as her life had changed this summer, so had his.

He hadn’t truly snapped at her since before You-Know-Who appeared the first time. In fact, they had gotten along swimmingly since then. Perhaps it was the tension that surrounded them, or that mutual hardships made one re-sort their priorities, but she liked to think that the more he told her about the magical world, the more he understood how dull her life had been and why she was the way she was. 

The situation wasn’t ideal, more often than not she was terrified, but when it was just her and Draco she felt like she could breathe. Even when he was in a bad mood, she felt comfort in having him by her side. She had been unprepared for what this summer had brought her but at the moment she felt as if maybe things would begin to lighten.

For the first time, she was out from under her parent’s control. Of course, who controlled her now was a much more malicious being but Ember adapted the thought process that if he wasn’t within screaming distance she was safe. Foolish as it may be, she was still new to all of this and figured that whatever kept her sane was the best path to follow for the time being. 

He shifted beside her, that pout ever present, as his eyes blinked open. It took him a moment to realize that she had been staring at him and in response he simply raised an eyebrow and said, “Well you seemed to wake up on the right side of the metaphorical bed this morning,” before closing his eyes and shifting so that he was on his back.

“I’m excited.” She whispered as if it was meant to be kept secret.

After a moment, he smirked, his eyes still closed, and sighed heavily, “As you should be.”

“You’ll be able to do magic when we get there?” She asked softly. The idea that he wasn’t allowed to do magic outside of school, that no child was, had unsettled her greatly when everyone that surrounded them could curse them at any moment.

“Mhmm,” He breathed out with eyes still closed.

Ember took that as a sign that he was still waking up and fell silent. 

~

Draco had balked when she stated that she had never been on a train as they boarded the Hogwarts Express. She didn’t like the way he looked at her, as if she was entirely ridiculous. She honestly couldn’t even remember what a train theoretically was when she was told that was how they were getting to Scotland. It was like the word had fallen out of her head. 

Goodbyes had always been easy for Ember, and she was certainly glad to be rid of the bleakness that was Malfoy Manor. Draco’s mother had bid them a quick goodbye before they travelled to King’s Cross Station by way of the Floo Network. This time around she was prepared for the weird sensation and was all the more confident in her pursuit. Draco tried not to smile at such a change, but she had caught the suppressed upturn of his lips from the corner of her eye. 

She felt like she was being placed underneath a magnifying glass as Draco led them down the narrow corridor of the train. She could tell that he felt their stares as well but she knew that those looks with their subtle curiosity were mostly reserved for her. She tried to remain confident as she gracefully followed behind him but it was easier said than done.

Draco tensed before smoothly sliding into an empty compartment. Without his tall figure to block her, she saw a boy with unruly black hair and round glasses staring at her not seven paces away.  
Draco quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her into the compartment with him, sliding the door shut and pinching the curtains closed over the small window. 

“Was that…?”

“Potter.” He practically spat, with much more ferocity than she had heard from him in months. He practically slumped into a seat and scowled out the window where children were saying a final farewell to their families.

Ember had remembered how he had talked about The Boy Who Lived just a few weeks before. How he had rolled his eyes more than once, sneered around memories, and showed a type of hostility that was only the result of years of jealousy.

She hadn’t quite known what to think of Harry. Clearly Draco was a bit biased about ‘perfect Potter’ and how he got ‘special treatment’ and strutted around the castle as if he ‘owned the place’. But she thought, if he was an orphan, how much special treatment could he really have had? 

She shook her head and sat down opposite of him. The air was tainted with his foul mood and she didn’t quite know how to react. She thought that he would be happier. He had been under so much stress this summer, they both had, and she thought he would be relieved to escape the Death Eaters that always lingered around his home.

Maybe it was her. Maybe she was making things worse for him by following him to school. She sighed at the thought looking down at the place on her finger that said that she was his. That was a real possibility but in the same breath, there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She could only try to remain on his good side, because if he turned a cold shoulder to her she really wasn’t sure what she would do.

~

The couple had fallen into a quiet stupor. Draco didn’t know what to say to the girl who was like a luggage tag for his disastrous summer. He knew it wasn’t her fault, and in truth he wasn’t even mad at her. His nerves had been fried and his sour mood from the night before only seemed to worsen. 

Ember at some point grabbed the book she had stolen from his bookshelf three days prior and began to read, her brows furrowing more than they probably should have.

The door to their compartment slid open and Draco quickly looked to see Blaise Zabini lean against the opening smirking slightly at Draco. “Well there you are you slimy git. Thought you jumped ship and decided to abandon me.” 

Draco gave him an unimpressed glare and Zabini’s smirk twitched before he entered the compartment, shutting the door behind him, and plopped down into the empty space beside Ember, who, Draco noticed, froze completely. Her fingers were gripping the books bindings hard enough that he could see the veins underneath as she gazed up at their new resident with large doe eyes.

Draco had always liked Blaise Zabini. In recent years, he even found that he enjoyed his company far better than Crabbe or Goyle’s and especially better than Pansy’s. Blaise had always had a cool exterior, as if nothing was ever deemed important enough for him to worry about. Draco supposed that it might have been due to the fact that his mother always had a new husband quicker than she could get rid of the last and if your life continuously had new characters waltzing in, why would you emotionally attach to anything.

“Believe me, I thought about it.” Draco finally replied.

Zabini smirked once more before he shifted his attention towards Ember. The poor girl was white as a sheet and hadn’t let her eyes leave Zabini since he disrupted their quiet. He quirked an eye brow at Draco, “And who is this?”

Obviously, Blaise had seen Draco flirt on occasion but he had never seen him alone with a girl. And even though he didn’t know if Draco had a type, he would have bet a hundred gallons that she was not it. 

Draco hadn’t given much thought on what he would tell his friends and peers about who Ember was to him. He didn’t want to explain how they had been forced to marry upon pain of death, but not much else was going to be able to explain away why Ember would be around him.

“Blaise meet Ember, she’s a friend of the family. Her parents finally decided Hogwarts was better than homeschooling her.” 

There. It wasn’t not the truth.

Blaise held careful eye contact with Draco before he held out a hand to Ember, “Nice to meet you.”

She stared at the pro-offered hand as if it had fangs that would strike her if she moved. Draco had never seen her act like that before, and after a moment she blushed a wonderful shade of pink and reached forward shaking Zabini’s hand timidly muttering a hello. He glared at the exchange wondering why the bloody hell she was acting like a damned green gilled school girl. He detected the feeling was a tinge of jealousy and viciously swallowed down the feeling before it had time to manifest fully.

“So,” Zabini began awkwardly, “How was your summer? Didn’t hear from you much after those first few weeks.”

Ah, yes, Draco forgot about how he had abruptly stopped any and all correspondence with his school mates as soon as Ember had showed up and his life was shot to hell.

She was staring at him almost pleadingly and it seemed to only agitate him further as he realized that he had been taking far too long to answer such a simple question. He shrugged a shoulder noncommittedly, “Yours?”

Zabini rolled his eyes, “As dull as always. I’ll tell you I’ll even be happy to sit through Slughorn’s classes this year.”

Draco furrowed his brow. “Slughorn? As in Horace Slughorn?” The damn portly man Voldemort has assigned the damned Carrows to recruit? “What the hell is he teaching?”

Zabini stared at him with wide eyes, “You mean you haven’t heard? Slughorn’s the new Potions Master. Dumbledore finally gave the Defense Against the Dark arts job to Snape.”

Quickly Ember’s eyes met Draco’s and new found tension flowed back into the compartment. Trying to remain nonchalant Draco gazed back at Zabini, “Snape must be pleased.”

Zabini went on to engage Draco in the recent Quidditch matches that Draco had failed to keep up on, but the majority of it went in one ear and out the other as he kept stealing glances at Ember, who had gone back to reading. He wondered what Snape’s new position meant for her, what it meant for him, and after a moment he noticed that she hadn’t turned the page in far too long.

~

Ember strongly resisted the urge to hold Draco’s hand as they stepped off with Blaise onto Hogsmeade Station. Students poured out of the train as the two boys walked off towards a set of carriages. She had to run to catch up with them and managed to stay just a half pace away. She didn’t want Draco to become a security blanket for her but as she gazed around her, she felt as if that ship had already sailed without her noticing.

When they got closer to the carriages she paused as giant creatures huffed and cantered strange hooves into the ground. They resembled horses with skeletal wings and thin protruding bones each as monochromatic as the last.

Draco noticed that she wasn’t behind him and turned to see her giving a long look at the threstals. He didn’t let himself think about the reason as to why she could actually see them. She caught his eye and he nodded toward the open carriage. She quickly joined him as he helped her step in behind Blaise.

Throughout the journey Blaise and Draco kept casually chatting about the new term and how neither of them were exactly leaping for joy at the prospect of another year of magical education. It rubbed her the wrong way that they so callously tossed their opportunities aside when she had been robbed of this for so long.

Soon their words faded into background noise. Against a backdrop of mountains, a massive castle erupted from behind the branches of the surrounding forest. She had never seen such a majestic structure before and stared at its beauty as it grew closer. She was so amazed she didn’t notice Draco staring at her softly.

When the carriages came to a stop at the bottom of a long flight of stairs, she was the first to jump down, her excitement from the morning returning. That is until she gazed back at Draco and saw him solemnly taking in the view. Nerves began to wrack through her as she contemplated what this year would bring for her, and what it would bring for him. She wrapped her new Slytherin cloak around her a little tighter as she followed him towards the large open doors.

Once inside the castle, Draco bid Zabini a quick goodbye as he slunk off to the side with Ember. His father had explained that Snape would take her and escort her through the castle during the welcome feast as to not draw to much attention to the fact that she was a brand new ‘student’. Zabini gave him a dubious gaze but dropped it without a word and continued on with the rest of the students.

He could feel her nerves mingle with his own as she began to shift on the balls of her feet next to him in the dimly lit corridor before a sudden unenthused voice from the shadows drawled, “Miss Malfoy.”

Ember audibly gasped and, against her better judgement, reached for Draco’s hand, but at the very last moment thought better of it. She turned around slowly and gazed at the man who just two weeks prior had saved her left forearm from irreparable damage. 

He hadn’t changed much, though from this close she could tell that his face was much longer than she initially thought and that his dark brown eyes were surprisingly warm around the edges. He towered over her all in black and she unconsciously took a step backwards into Draco.

Professor Snape’s eyes flicked over her to Draco who had managed to put his hands on her shoulders to stop her retreat. Acknowledgement flashed through their eyes as Snape uttered a soft, yet commanding, “Follow me,” and turned his body sideways for her to join him.

She gulped at the prospect of walking these halls beside a man who she knew was a Death Eater without Draco by her side. Draco gently squeezed her shoulders and she took a deep breath before beginning to follow the man.

A few paces down the corridor she turned to look at Draco over her shoulder. He stayed there in the middle of the corridor, watching them walk away, and gave her a small reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

~

There was a chill in the halls as they passed through the castle like ghosts. They were quiet for the most part. Professor Snape would occasionally point out things of importance such as a classroom or an office, but for the most part they remained in a tense silence. 

She felt immensely small walking next to the man dressed in black robes. He was tall and exuded confidence as he escorted her through the corridors. She hoped that she would get along with him. He was who she would be spending her time with throughout the year. If lessons with him were going to be silent and tense affairs, she couldn’t see her being able to learn anything.

They had made their way up the castle with the help of the changing staircases that delighted Ember more than she expected that they would. She had learned a lot about Hogwarts from Bagshot’s Hogwarts: A History but reading about something and seeing it right before your eyes are two vastly different experiences. He point out the Headmaster’s office, the Astronomy Tower, the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower and the like before they trailed all the way down and into the dungeons.

Professor Snape paused in front of a door at the far end of the cold corridor and Ember could hear him mutter a spell underneath his breath as he swished his wand and the door opened. He stepped inside and beckoned her to follow.

It was a miserable and grim looking office that was rounded by the castles architecture. Hundreds upon hundreds of tiny glass vials lined the walls, each labelled in crisp cursive perfection. A circular desk sat in the middle with books and ink and peculiar instruments littering the top. There was a door behind the desk that she assumed led to his personal apartments.

Professor Snape glided around the desk and sat in a tall leather upholstered chair and asked her to sit in the only remaining seat- a chair that was far past its prime.

He studied her for a moment with his elbows placed on his desk, hands clasped in front of his thin lips. She felt her hands get sweaty at his calculating gaze. Much like the night of her wedding, she tried to avoid his nagging gaze.

“Lucius didn’t mention any of this to you, did he?” He suddenly asked, leaning back in his chair. His dark brown eyes were narrowed as he peered at her curiously.

His eyes were no less calculating than they had been before, but his body language was far more relaxed and it made her feel slightly better, if only slightly. “Well,” she cleared her dry throat, “He told me that I was going to be having lessons with you under orders of the D-Dark Lord.”

He gazed at her long enough for her to repeat her words back in her head and wonder if she even said them out loud before he nodded. “You will not be attending any normal curriculum while you are here Miss Malfoy. You will report to me in the mornings before classes begin, then you will have the majority of the day to practice or study in the library, you will report back to me in the evenings so that we can measure your progress.” 

She saw him cross one leg over the other and rest his elbow on the arm of the chair. “Make no mistake that had you not presented…extraordinary talents you would not be here. Therefore, you will not receive a typical education. Sure, make use of what you can learn from your surroundings but The Dark Lord will not be pleased with you, or me, if our lessons don’t prove…successful.”

Ember nodded, understanding perfectly that she was going to have to answer to the Dark Lord sooner or later and she better be able to deliver or Draco would be a seventeen-year-old widower. 

Finally, Professor Snape pursed his lips and looked down to a letter that lay opened on his desk. “You will have a meeting with Dumbledore in the morning. You are to remain as confident and nonchalant as you are capable of.” There was that word again, confident. “He understands your marriage in its simplest terms and that you have been homeschooled with an affluent knowledge of Defense of the Dark Arts, which is why you are to be my apprentice for this term.” He paused to glare over his desk at her. “You are to speak nothing of Lucius, nothing of the Death Eaters, and absolutely nothing of the Dark Lord. Do I make myself clear, Miss Malfoy?” The urgency in his tone caused Ember’s heart to break into a panicked sprint. “Or you might find one of these lovely ingredients slipped into your morning pumpkin juice.” Though it was meant as a threat, she figured that would be more merciful than if she let something slip and was dragged back to the Dark Lord himself.

Abruptly he stood up and strode back to the door. She followed suit trying not to trip over her feet with her jittery knees. He opened the door back into the hallway and she exited without a word. They glided down the still empty corridors and passed what he had claimed to be the Slytherin Common Room causing Ember to puzzle her brow.

Off to the side at the end of the dungeons there was a small alcove that produced a small door and he turned, his black robes swooshing behind him. His eyes swept over her before meeting her eyes once more. “Try to remain as invisible as possible during your time here. You are not here to make friends. You are here to help support our cause.”

Ember broke his gaze and nodded once glancing down to the floor that reflected the small amount of light that flickered from the torches. She had been invisible her entire life, surely it would be easy to remain unseen.

“Goodnight Miss Malfoy.” He drawled before striding past her back down the hall.

~

Draco was laying on their bed using his wand to aimlessly levitate a feather when the door began to rattle.

He had been surprised when a note had appeared beside his dinner plate that was addressed from the headmaster himself. They had been given their own room because marriage is a sacred bond. Draco didn’t know whether to be grateful or peeved. 

He figured that he would remain in the Slytherin dormitory and that Ember would stay in its female counterpart. It took a bit of weight off his chest to know that they would have their own space, where he could hopefully fully relax. It would be all the more convenient for Ember to hide in too. 

After he had helped lead the first years towards their common room as was his duty as a prefect, he had slipped out into the hallway and followed the directions to this small separate room. He knew he would have to explain to his roommates why his things and he himself weren’t in the Slytherin dorms tomorrow, but that was a problem for another day.

He had scoffed at the idea that he would remain a prefect and he had been dangerously close to writing Snape and saying he refused, but his father had been prefect. He always assumed that Draco would grow to achieve the claim too, for all male Malfoy’s had been prefects at Hogwarts. Draco didn’t have the heart to put another blemish in their family crest.

The door slowly opened to reveal a tired Ember. He knew she must be exhausted just by the fact that when she noticed him in the room she didn’t jump for joy at his meager performance of magic. 

“How did it go?” He asked, more curious than he was letting on. When he had watched the odd pair walk down the corridor hours earlier he wasn’t sure how things would go. He mildly thought Snape might throw her from one of the towers.

She sank into one of the arm chairs that sat in front the flaming fireplace and sighed, “I don’t think he likes me very much.”

Draco sighed himself before letting the feather fall to the mattress and sitting up on the four-poster bed. “One thing you’ll learn about Snape is that his bark is worse than his bite.”

She huffed a laugh before asking curiously, “Do you know why he became the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?”

His jaw clenched as he once again felt the weight of his problems. “No, but it must mean that Dumbledore has need of Slughorn. Slughorn was the potions professor before Snape.”

Ember nodded thoughtfully and filed the information for later. She took her first deep look around the room, “So this is home?”

He hummed in acknowledgement as he watched her eyes trail across the simple space. There was a small fireplace with a short coffee table and two armchairs seated in front it. The queen-sized bed sat on the far wall with two nightstands on either side. Both of their trunks were sat side by side at the foot of the bed. The wall adjacent to their bed was one large window that extended from floor to ceiling. There was one other door that led into a small washroom. 

“Does it have to be so dark?” She asked rhetorically with her nose scrunched, her eyes still surveying their room. After months of living in the manor she hoped for a livelier space. Draco uncharacteristically snorted.

She gasped before skipping over to the window, “Is that water?!”

He let out a full body laugh feeling his worries dissolved as she stared at him with amazement brightening her tired features. “It’s the lake,” He explained as she practically pushed her nose up against the glass.

She gazed back at him in awe and all he could do was smile. Her eyes sparkled as she saw a school of fish swim past the window. Seeing her happy caused a pleasant warmth to spread throughout his chest. Without a second thought he raised his wand and slowly a tendril of her hair bounced in the air. 

She shot him an accusing glance with a mischievous edge and all he could do was grin. She unclasped her cloak and toed off her shoes before walking over to the bed and plopping herself down right by his feet causing him to bend his legs to make more room. “What else can you do?” She asked eagerly.

She looked at him completely enraptured. He twirled his wand with his fingers for a moment before smirking. Her pure excitement had given him a rush of his own euphoria. “Alright,” he started, straightening his back and pointing his wand at her chest, “Rictumsempra!”

Her chest seized as laughter poured out of her mouth. She clutched her side as she curled on top of the bed giggling uncontrollably. Draco snickered, loving the sound and her reaction to his indulgent tickling charm. 

Her cheeks flooded with warmth as her eyes danced up at him. She reached helplessly for his knee, “Please! Mercy!” She giggled.

He lowered his wand and her laughter turned into soft pants. She huffed a laugh at his soft smile and sat back up on the bed. “That was mean!” She accused lightly.

He shrugged with a growing smirk, “You looked like you could use a good laugh.”

His playfulness was contagious and Ember lightly shoved his shoulder. He laughed and grabbed her wrist before she could retract it. She met his eyes and breathed out another laugh. He rubbed his thumb across her pulse point realizing that this was not only the most he’s ever heard her laugh but it was the most he had laughed in a very long time.

Her lips faded into a small smile as she gazed up at him, her magnetic eyes twinkling. It was suddenly a little too much. He coughed awkwardly and let her hand fall to the sheets between them.

“Perhaps you’ll like this one better…” He lifted his wand and whispered, “Orchideous!”

A bouquet of daisies burst from the tip of his wand. Ember clapped and gave him a shy smile as he handed the flowers to her. She brought them to her nose and breathed in deeply, as if to see if they were in fact real. She grinned at him toothily and pride flew through him, knowing that he had made her like that.

“Amazing,” She murmured positively dazed with delight. “You’re simply amazing.”

He could feel his own cheeks heat up slightly and rubbed the back of his neck. How something so simple could bring such enjoyment made her all the more endearing.

Draco showed her a few more simpler spells before he claimed that they needed to sleep. After both had changed and crawled into the bed, Draco pulled the tassel at the head of the bed, causing curtains to cover the room from view.


	12. Left in the Darkness

“Hey Mr. Stargazer, give me a straight razor. Don’t let it all faze her, when minors get so major.”  
-Matt Maeson, Straight Razor

Draco had waited patiently for Ember to get ready the next morning. She had been tossing and turning in the bed last night and had woken him up with her cold toes more than once. Needless to say, his bitter mood from the days before had filtered into the morning despite the light-hearted night.

She usually didn’t take this long to get ready and he wondered if it was because she was still nervous, or if she simply was too exhausted to move faster. “Ember!” He called out frustrated towards their adjoining washroom. He was just about to leave her to her own devices when he heard her feet shuffling.

She had scurried out with a frown on her face and it took Draco a moment to recover. She was fully dressed in the Slytherin robes they had purchased last week. And boy did the color green suit her. It brought out the bright green of her eyes. The skirt had a higher hem than the dresses she normally wore; her long legs were certainly to die for. Draco shook his head to get rid of such useless thoughts and noticed her reason for frowning.

“I can’t manage to-stop laughing! I’ve never had to do this before!” Her glare was that of a kitten and it only made him laugh harder as her fingers fumbled with the tie wrapped around her slim neck.

He raised his hands up in surrender as he approached her to carefully removing the tie from her neck. Still chuckling, he placed it over his own and weaved the fabric into a loose knot before swinging it back over to her neck and tightening it up to her throat. She caught his eye and held his gaze for a moment before gulping, he tugged teasingly on the tie and she pulled back from him a blush coating her cheeks. It was all so domestic and he loved it.

He picked up his book bag as she shrugged on her cloak. 

“You know where Dumbledore’s office is?”

“Yes,” She huffed fiddling with the clasp of her cloak.

“So I’ll swing back here and pick you up before lunch? Maybe show you around a little before afternoon classes?” He suggested.

She nodded silently before offering him a small smile. He was about to open the door as her small hand on his elbow stopped him. “You don’t have to…to do all of this for me.” 

He could tell she was trying to put on a brave face, act as if she could handle it, and he would give her credit that her poker face was improving but he could still see that shy little girl behind the façade she was slowly learning to build. 

“I know,” was all he said before shooting her a small wink and disappearing out the door.

And for a moment she thought that maybe she wasn’t the only one in need of a security blanket.

~

The staircase ride up to the Headmaster’s office was when her nerves really started to get the best out of her. She was a horrible liar, and she was quickly realizing that she would have to improve if she was to survive in this world. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before she knocked twice on the door. 

She guessed that she should have known that Professor Snape would have been in this meeting too. For a moment, she really thought that she would be alone with the head of not only Hogwarts but of the resistance as well. She should have known that he would be there to make sure she didn’t betray anything. Not that she would.

She felt a ping at not being trustworthy. She had learned by example to not betray the Dark Lord, and had already accepted that she would lie for him, not because she believed in him or his methods, but because she wanted to be able to live. Even though she had never betrayed anyone; no one had ever seemed to trust her.

Not even Draco truly trusted her. She tried to write it off that they hadn’t really known each other too long. Trust has to be earned, she had reminded herself. It still didn’t change the fact that it hurt. She trusted him so blindly, perhaps because she had to or she would drown, and it was painful to know that he didn’t reciprocate.

Shaking her thoughts away she smiled at the two Professors, greeting them good morning and walking as confidently as she dared up to the desk that sat in front of who must be Albus Dumbledore. 

He didn’t seem as dangerous as she had been led to believe. He sat down in a fancy chair surrounded by portraits of sleeping wizards and gazed at her over half-moon spectacles a warm smile found in the depths of his facial features. He was wearing pale periwinkle robes that simply made him look distinguished.

“Miss Malfoy please come take a seat.” He beckoned her forward, offering her a lemon drop in the process.

She sat politely trying not to look at Professor Snape who stood to his left with his ever-present look of indifference. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that he wasn’t examining her every move.

“Thank you for meeting with me this morning,” Professor Dumbledore said with a careful smile.

As if it had been a choice, she thought.

“I’m sure Professor Snape welcomed you well enough last night.” At her nod he continued, “You see I wanted to take the chance to be introduced since your situation is so unusual.”

She gulped nervously when he paused, his eyes slowly losing that twinkle.

“I was hoping that you might enlighten me with being sorted, for curiosity’s sake.” He motioned to the withered traditional wizards hat that lay on the desk between them.

“Of course…”

Professor Dumbledore nodded his head, “Severus, if you would please.”

Professor Snape rounded the desk and picked up the sorting hat before unceremoniously dropping it on her head; something that she definitely could have done on her own. Draco had told her that when he was sorted at eleven that he heard the sorting hat in his head for a quick moment before he was declared Slytherin. 

She heard nothing. A long moment passed as she gazed up at Professor Snape before turning her stare to an expectant Professor Dumbledore. She could feel what little amount of confidence she had when she stepped foot into the room evaporate in the air. 

No one had been able to gather whether she possessed normal magic or just variants of something else. They didn’t know if she was going to be able to use a wand, they didn’t know if she was going to be able to do anything other than stop violence with a vibrant glow. The longer the sorting hat sat silent on top of her ears the more vulnerable she felt.

Then, as quick as if it had been decided long before, the sorting hat declared, “Slytherin!”

She hadn’t known that she had been hoping for Slytherin, if only to prove herself loyal and trustworthy to her new family, but she sighed with relief all the same.

Professor Dumbledore gave her a curious look as Severus picked up the sorting Hat and whooshed it away to the top of a cabinet. “I taught your parent’s you know.”

She looked up at the Headmaster dumbfounded. In all the information she had processed over the last months, it never occurred to her that her parents had once been students at this very school and could have had connections to its’ Professors. 

To his credit, Professor Snape froze at the mention of her parents. He remembered her falling to her knees after her father had been so horrendously disposed of. 

Ember tried to produce a smile but found she didn’t quite have the energy, “They never told me much about their time at Hogwarts, Sir.” 

Lie, she thought vehemently. They hadn’t told her anything at all.

“Well they imparted some of their wisdom clearly. Your base marks for Defense Against the Dark Arts are impressive.” Another fabricated lie. “I’m curious to see how well you do here.”

She nodded with a smile and spoke the only truth of their conversation, “Of course. I’m eager to start learning.”

Professor Dumbledore gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes and dismissed the two of them. It seemed as quickly as the meeting started it was over.

~

She was curled on top of the bed when Draco walked back through their door. He let his bag fall off his shoulder by the door and took the opportunity to sit next to her. Her breaths came out in little puffs; eye lashes fluttering over her cheeks occasionally. The plaid skirt had trailed even higher up her thigh in her sleep and he gulped before adverting his gaze back up to her face.

He half wanted to stay down here with her and skip the lunch he had promised. He knew that he needed to introduce and explain Ember to the rest of his friends to avoid unruly rumors but all he wanted to do was cat nap with her on the bed. When it was just she and him- his lungs were light, like they had always been filled with lead before he let himself gaze into her eyes.

“Em,” He whispered softly. When she didn’t move he gently brushed her hair out of her face. She mumbled into the bed and he let his fingers glide into her hair further, “Ember…”

Her eyes lazily opened and she blinked a few times before she realized where she was and who was with her. She hummed in a sleepy daze and nuzzled her head so that it was placed in his lap before closing her eyes once more. He froze for a moment before he chuckled softly. 

He brushed her hair softly for a few more moments, enthralled by her soft locks before he realized that minutes had passed and he had unknowingly lulled her back to sleep. “Em,” he tried again, letting his hand trail down her neck to rest on her shoulder.

She opened her eyes, a bit more aware, before suddenly sitting up blushing mad as she caught Draco’s eyes.

“So, lunch?” Draco asked.

“Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” She replied brushing her hair down with her hands which suddenly felt blasphemous compared to his.

He shrugged and stood up. She followed his lead and climbed off the bed straightening her skirt in the process. Draco pretended he didn’t notice. “How was Dumbledore?”

She shrugged as she toed on her shoes, “It went well. Professor Snape was there.”

Draco nodded, figures. He began to walk towards the door before an “Oh,” stopped him short. He turned back to her with his curiosity peaked as he’d never quite heard that inflection come from her.

She met his eyes shyly. “I got sorted into Slytherin.”

His brow arched in surprise. He hadn’t given a thought to what house she would metaphorically be placed in. It seemed like a pointless notion considering all the facts, but when he did think about it he was surprised to know that she had been sorted into his house. She was far too soft to belong to the cunning. In fact, she didn’t quite fit with any of the others either. 

She was holding her breath and biting her bottom lip, waiting for a response. 

“That’s great.”

Her face fell and he quickly realized that wasn’t the response she had wanted. She quickly shook her head and gave him a smile that he could tell was fake.

“So, lunch?” She asked when he still hadn’t moved.

~

She hadn’t known what to expect when she had entered the Great Hall. She half thought that everyone at the four long tables would stare at her upon entry, as all had stared at her on the Hogwarts Express. She was pleased to find that no one seemed to notice her at all. It was as if she truly was just another student.

Students were sat in clumps together, different colors clashing with others. Blue, red, and yellow mixed together as green stood together in solidarity. The grand walls extended into the enchanted ceiling that was showing a perfectly sunny afternoon with white fluffy clouds.

Draco led them towards the table on the far end. Ember recognized Blaise immediately and she blushed unconsciously when he met her eyes in acknowledgement as the couple got closer. He was sitting with three others, two rather robust boys and a girl as pale as the moon. She gulped anxiously as she and Draco sat down.

“Hey,” Draco greeted placing his elbows on the table.

No one replied as all but Blaise had stopped to stare at their new company. Ember placed her hands in her lap between her knees and squeezed as if it would make her smaller. She swallowed tightly and offered her own, “Hello.”

No one said a thing for a moment as four pairs of eyes were ogling at the new female companion who was inched up close to Draco. 

She remembered the vague description she had been given about his friends and felt that she needed no formal introduction as it was easy to tell them apart.

Draco set his jaw at all the attention wishing that Ember’s presence could be swept under the rug casually and just be accepted. He was starting to think that nothing casual ever happened to her.

“Who are you?” Pansy Parkinson spoke up. Her jaw was tight; dark eyes hostile as she glared at the intruder.

Ember dared a glance at a suddenly tired looking Draco and realized this was a conversation she’d have on her own. “I’m Ember.” She replied lamely.

“I repeat,” Pansy drawled, eyes narrowing, “Who are you?”

Ember gulped, not knowing how to continue.

“Merlin, Parkinson, would you lay off?” Blaise responded with an eye roll.

Ember fell into herself a little further and gazed down at the plate of food that appeared before her. She wished that she was still in their warm room where any eyes but Draco’s were not allowed.

“What? Draco just shows up with this new girl, who I know wasn’t at the feast last night, and we’re all just supposed to be fine with it?”

Crabbe, who was chewing on a chicken leg, furrowed his brows at Parkinson. Goyle, who was finally done gazing her at dully, just shrugged. 

Draco’s hand clenched on the top of the table as he resisted the urge to scream. “She’s a friend of the family Pansy.”

“Then why wasn’t she here last night?”

Draco paused. Why hadn’t he thought up any sort of excuse for Ember? 

He quickly tried to grasp at a reason, any reason, other than the truth. Pansy Parkinson had always been petty and bringing another female into their social circle was never going to have gone over well. He should have accounted for that.

Just as it was becoming suspicious at his lack of response, Ember piped up. “I was with Professor Snape.”

Draco’s head snapped to his right. 

“I’m his apprentice,” She explained. “I got the position through the Malfoy’s. Draco and I’ve known each other since we were little.”

Draco tried hard not to gape in shock as she lied flawlessly to his friends. 

Pansy opened her mouth to say something else, before thinking better of it and closing it altogether. Ember breathed out a small sigh of relief to know that she wouldn’t have to explain any further and began to start picking at her food. 

Crabbe decided to start some pointless conversation about owls. Ember couldn’t seem to focus between the glare Pansy was still giving her, the fleeting glances from Blaise, and the fact that some other boy had sat down on her other side close enough for her to feel enclosed and deeply uncomfortable.

The rest of lunch she spent as a shadow, ignored by all including Draco.

~

Draco had showed her around the castle that afternoon before his paranoia got the best of him and he took her to a corner in the library instead. Ember didn’t say anything, but she felt like she was being shoved into the bottom of his trunk and pushed underneath the bed. Whether he didn’t trust her out in the open or was just ashamed of her, she started to feel smaller and smaller and completely insignificant the more time they spent outside of their room.

He had left for his afternoon classes hours ago and though she knew she should be trying to research anything that could help her situation, she couldn’t find the inspiration as she looked back on the afternoon they had shared together. 

He had walked at a pace that was just fast enough for her to feel winded. He would look over his shoulder with suspicious eyes, and when his eyes weren’t cast behind them, they were skeptically sweeping the corridors around them. He answered her questions with one word replies. His jaw continuously clenching and unclenching, his fingers twitching at his side. His very body-language treated her like she was the unfortunate tea stain on his tie that he just couldn’t hide. She was incredibly well-versed in feeling unwanted to know when she was becoming a ghost.

All she had ever wanted was to be allowed the chance to be accepted. Was it so foolish to think that Hogwarts could have provided that for her?

Ember waited patiently outside Professor Snape’s office. Her mood had only seemed to become more overcast the longer she was left with her thoughts, and by the time that Snape had showed up and opened the door to his office she felt particularly low.

“I’d like to ask you a few questions before we begin.” He stated as he walked towards the very back of his office.

She followed in without question and took a seat in the same worn chair she had occupied the night before. The office smelled of something chemical and her eyes noticed a cauldron alight with a blue hue in the corner. With a flourish of his robes, Professor Snape sat down at his desk and opened a hefty book, dust flying up in the air from disuse, and began to flick through its’ pages.

“The first time you…” He paused and arched a thick brow, “glowed, was with the Dark Lord?”

She nodded. 

“And when testing your…powers have you noticed anything?” His eyes floated back to the text in front of him.

A puzzled look crossed her face, “I haven’t.”

“So you’ve just been glowing?”

“No, I mean I haven’t tested my powers.”

He paused, a page in the book lifted between his long fingers, and gazed at her with intrigue. “What do you mean you haven’t tested your powers?” He asked incredulously.

She shrugged sinking a little lower in her chair. “I guess I’ve been too afraid. I don’t know how it works, and it seems no one else knows either.”

Snape leaned back in his chair, book forgotten, as he studied the peculiar girl in front of him. “I’m trying to decide if that was smart or foolish.” He stood up abruptly and walked around his desk before taking a seat on the edge, delicately crossing his arms one over the other. Ember shifted her legs to keep her knee from bouncing.

“You’re right. No one knows about your affliction, but that is why we’re here.” He licked his lips. “How does it feel when you’ve,” He drew out the word, widening his eyes slightly, “illuminated?”

Ember looked to the floor between them, trying to think back to when her gifts had made themselves known; all she could remember was the pain. “I don’t know.” She shrugged, “I felt scared…I felt trapped; then there was just pain before it all stopped.”

He pursed his lips and nodded, “Purely instinctual.” He stood up and returned back to the dusty book. “So pain is a possible trigger. Have you tried to perform a spell?”

She shook her head. “Draco said that it would draw too much attention to go to Ollivanders.”

“Smart boy.”

“And since it’s my understanding that even skilled wizards find performing nonverbal spells difficult…” She shrugged, “I guess I haven’t given it too much thought. I did manage to use the Floo Network successfully.”

“Did you ever think to try and use Draco’s wand?”

Her face pinched in confusion, “Wands are interchangeable? They always seemed so…personal.”

His eyes flashed up to meet hers before nodding and flipping through several pages. “Wands are personal. That doesn’t mean that you can’t use a wand that does not belong to you. But perhaps we’ll get to that later. First we should try to understand how to control your gift.”

He lifted his wand smoothly and all the candles dimmed except for the two on his desk. He lowered his hand and looked at her expectantly, “Now I would like for you to try and glow.”  
She gulped and looked at him with frightened eyes. The shade of green was just one shade off of the one he loved and created an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
“Is it safe?” She whispered, looking up to him as if he had all the answers.

He breathed out quickly through his nose, “It’s as safe as it can be.”

She nodded before taking a deep breath, trying not to cough from the fumes of the potion brewing.

She tried, really she did, but not so much as a spark lit up the room. Her hands clutched the arm rest as she clenched every muscle she had willing herself to prove worthy. Professor Snape had given up on watching her after she remained unmoved for several minutes and went back to his book, leaving her to experiment on her own.

Ember suddenly gasped as she felt all her energy leave her.

“I think that’s enough for today.” 

Ember glanced up at him to see that he hadn’t even looked up from his desk. His body language was clear; he hadn’t expected her to be able to do anything. And after the long day of mentally berating herself, she felt tears accumulate in the corner of her eyes.

“Tell me, before you leave, has Draco made any progress on his task?”

Ember froze desperately trying to blink away her tears before they could fall, “What task?”

Snape’s hand stilled as he slowly glanced back up at his perplexed student. Had he not told her? 

“The task the Dark Lord gave him.” He stated simply noticing how Ember’s forlorn face fell even further.

“Oh,” She whispered quietly.

It really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that Draco had kept something from her. She knew he didn’t completely trust her, it had become glaringly obvious since they left the manor.

She could feel his intense eyes scrutinize her. Softly she asked, “Professor, is it alright if I go now?”

He stared at her for a moment more before he nodded.

~

Ember numbly walked down the corridor towards their chamber. Had Draco really kept something this dire from her? Had he not even trusted her with this? She had assumed that those days spent in their room where he had told her of the world she should have been a part of was him letting her in even if just a little. 

She had learned that Draco had walls. She didn’t know why they were there, but the more time spent with him the more she had a few guesses. It wasn’t as if she didn’t respect that they existed, for walls are usually the result of trauma, and sometimes boundaries were needed, but was it so wrong that she felt he should be able to tell her? Was it wrong that she wanted to be the one he told everything too? 

His walls had small barred windows, to where she could see glimpses inside when they were alone. But when they were in public, bricks were flung in her face; completely locking her out while a storm raged with no notice.

She saw it today in how he interacted with his friends. How he had closed himself off, from them and her, and sat bitterly eating his lunch. It was so abrupt to her yet subtle to the world.  
But to keep something like this from her? It stung. It was just another slap in the face on a day where she had already been hurting. They’d come so far as partners, but could it even be measured while something like this stood between them? They couldn’t be partners if one was left in the dark. That’s what it always came down to wasn’t it? Her being left in the dark.

She pushed the hard-oak door open and took a deep breath when she realized that Draco was sitting in front of the fire.

He looked incredibly casual dressed in only a pair of sweatpants and a dark blue t-shirt. The fire place was lit, being the only source of light in the room. She hadn’t realized how late it was. Books and parchment were scattered around the coffee table and he barely looked up as she entered the room.

Slowly she joined him by the fire and sat herself down in the empty arm chair. She gazed at him through sad eyes and waited for his attention; something he wasn’t willing to give her.  
“Were you ever going to tell me?” She whispered.

His quill paused against parchment as her words flowed through him. His gray eyes slowly rose to meet hers over the coffee table and every muscle tensed at her expression. It wasn’t hostile, it wasn’t arrogant, it was the face of disappointment in its infancy. He knew the face well. He just never wanted to see that face from her.

“Tell you what?” He spoke calmly, looking back down at his essay to avoid her sad eyes.

“That the Dark Lord gave you a task.”

“And who told you that?” He asked smoothly, setting his quill to the side.

“Who do you think?” Her eyes narrowed, “Please don’t treat me like I’m naïve.”

“You are naïve.” He stated with no remorse.

“No,” Her eyes grew cold, a fierce need to protect herself mounting. “I just wasn’t told anything. That doesn’t make me naïve and it doesn’t make me stupid. It makes me ill-experienced. I stopped being naïve the moment I set foot inside your home.” She grit her teeth together, “Were you honestly ever going to tell me?”

Draco shifted slowly letting his arm rest on his propped-up knee and chanced a glance in her direction. He had only ever seen her truly angry when her parents had shown up unannounced. Then, she had been bright with flaming rage. This was the silent kind, her eyes glowing like a panther’s in the fire light, and all the more deadly.

He sighed and felt the beginnings of a headache. “I need to be able to do this on my own. I need to be able to separate you from it.”

“Why?”

“Why?!” He exploded standing up from his cozy study spot and took three paces towards the fire before rounding on her. “Because I don’t have time to hold your hand through it Ember! This task was dealt to me, not us.”

She matched his tone desperately, “I told you! You don’t have to hold my hand! I’m capable of figuring things out on my own.”

Draco’s face scrunched up in annoyance as he suddenly felt every pressure he was under surge. “Oh but I do,” He spat out incredulously. “All you do is cower behind me! I can’t take you anywhere without having to explain something. You’re a constant shadow that I don’t need. Every moment with you is a moment wasted.” He sneered. 

The air crackled with hostility as he huffed. His hands dug into his hips as the glared down at her. He could see whatever hope she had in him shatter.

Her eyes still held green fire as her face became neutral. “Why can’t you trust me? I thought that we were in this together? We should be in this together!”

He rolled his eyes and looked at the coffee table between them. It was all getting to be too much for him to deal with and it was only the first day.

“What? Do you think if one of us fails the other isn’t going to suffer?” She spat, “Who is the naïve one now?” 

His silence was deafening. His walls were placed on the edge of a cliff that was crumbling underneath her. 

“Am I that untrustworthy?” She whispered after a moment only to be met with more silence. “Why am I even here?”

“You’re here because Snape was the only one that would teach you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as another stab of pain swept through her. “No. Why am I here. In this room. With you?” 

He wavered because he knew what she was not saying; that the only reason she was in this room was because of him. She had managed to find the sharp corner of him that was filled with guilt and twisted it in her tiny fists.

She stood up from the chair with a glare painted on her face, “I thought we were in this together. If all I’m allowed to be to you is a shadow and not someone you can confide in, fine. It’s not something new to me, but I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me.”

She grabbed her things and escaped to the washroom. Two minutes later she emerged dressed in her pajamas; Draco not having moved an inch. The fight had been taken out of her and she tried to ignore his stare as she drew the blankets of their bed back. 

She paused before climbing in.

“You know I’ve been kept in the dark by everyone I’ve ever known. I was sort of hoping that you would be the exception.”


	13. Superficial Wounds

“I don’t believe in saints, they never make mistakes.”  
-All Time Low, Dirty Laundry

Severus Snape had always been torn. His morals were questionable at best, his decisions controversial, and he had struggled with his demons for decades now. This term was proving to be nothing short of challenging. 

He had been strangely relieved to know that the Knight girl would be under his advisement. Her strange ability provoked him with curiosity and to be able to work with her and mold her was a challenge he had greatly wanted. 

She was a puzzle without pieces. He anticipated that it was going to be difficult to truly unravel her but as the weeks past and no breakthrough had been made he was beginning to think that maybe she was a lost cause.

He thought that they had discovered something useful when he came across the seven chakras during his research. It made sense that if her abilities were strictly emotional based that something could be blocking her chakras and enabling her gift. When he thought about trying to test this theory, he realized that he didn’t know where to begin and he was loathed to think to ask Trelawney for help.

It wasn’t as if she wasn’t trying. He could tell she focused on little else. 

When she walked into his office that second morning of the term, he could tell something in her had changed. It wasn’t very noticeable, she still kept to herself and kept her distance, but her face had devolved into resigned despair and as the weeks passed it simply became her face.

She had stunned him by asking him not to call her Miss Malfoy.

“Would you rather Miss Knight?” He asked.

She had pursed her lips, as if that didn’t sound quite right either.

“How about just Ember?” She asked after a moment.

If it had been any other student he would have called her Miss Malfoy out of spite, but she had asked nicely for him to not call her a name she was forced to have, and he couldn’t really think of a reason to begrudge her.

He wasn’t sure what had happened between her and her dear husband but it proved disastrous for his sake. He had been trying in vain for weeks, but Draco was not heeding his inquiries. All hope of discovering what the young Death Eaters plans were from the girl had been ruined by his untimely reveal.

As September blew into October nothing had been successful. Ember had not succeeded in gaining insight through her abilities and Snape had not learned Draco’s strategy. What a pitiful pair they made.

It was frustrating beyond belief and Severus figured that while the situation with Draco was delicate, he would have to resort to extreme measures where Ember was concerned.

He found he liked the girl. Her attitude very easily complimented his. She didn’t ask useless questions and there was always a reason behind anything she did. He thought that she was becoming more comfortable with him, almost as if his office had become a refuge and he supposed that it might have.

If teaching adolescents for years had taught Severus anything it was that their emotions ran high and pointless drama always ensued. Having two teenagers forced to marry was just asking for disaster. Draco and Ember were no exception. He couldn’t tell you what had happened, but something had definitely shifted for the wedded couple.

He had noticed that they spent very little time together, if any at all. Ember was working with him more often than not and if she wasn’t with him he knew he could find her in the library or if the weather permitted she would be out in the courtyard. 

She was never in the Great Hall, or in the Slytherin Common Room, or even in the corridors. She had quickly adapted to invisibility so much so that he was beginning to think that it was her default setting. He never saw her with anyone. While he admired her dedication to what was being asked of her, he couldn’t help but assume that she was lonely.

He knew she was interested in much more than she was easily allowed knowledge on. He had been pleased to learn that she had actually read the textbooks and theoretically knew most there was to know. When he noticed that she was having a particularly hard time focusing, he would switch gears and begin to show her how to brew the simplest potions. He gave her access to the restricted section of the library. He would even go as far as to permit her entrance to his D.A.D.A. lessons when they were learning something that could be beneficial to her. 

She would sit nicely in the back of the classroom with a notebook and quill and watch quietly. It seemed to help because she would sometimes bring up something in their private lessons that might help their current situation that he hadn’t thought of. It also helped to prove her status as his apprentice.

The unusual rumors about her had spread through the school like the plague. Ironically, the name Voldemort had given her seemed especially fitting because she was an enigma to the students. They had heard of her but they never saw her, and if by chance they did pass her in the corridors she was dressed like any other Slytherin and therefore overlooked. 

Still, she must have been lonely.

Though he had never witnessed too much interaction between her and Draco he was given the understanding that they got on well enough. Draco had looked downright protective of her that night in the cold dining room of Malfoy manor. And she had been reluctant to leave his side that first night before the feast.

He understood that their falling out was by his doing. He had assumed that Draco had confided her in his tasks. It wasn’t as if this was given knowledge and the only person he was free to tell was Ember, so why the bloody hell would he not want to tell her? 

The way her face had fallen in utter disbelief quickly gave him the answer that, no, she didn’t know anything about it.

She had walked in with dark circles under her eyes that only seemed to get darker as the weeks passed. On days when she didn’t wear her cloak he could tell she must have lost seven stone. He knew she was under more stress than she had ever been groomed for and wasn’t surprised.

While Severus got along fairly well with Lucius, he had resented Blaine. Both had been older than he and they had all been friendly enough throughout their school days. While Lucius was posed and ambitious, Blaine had always had an impulsivity that grated Severus’ nerves. He was sloppy, he was lazy, and he was entitled. He had expected his daughter to be much the same, how glad he was to be wrong. Apparently, Blaine wasn’t father material; how shocking.

Ember wasn’t the only one sporting a distressed appearance. When Draco bothered to show his face in class he noticed much of the same in him. His eyes had begun to sink in and his skin was beginning to turn a sickly shade.

He had been mildly worried that she wasn’t eating until late one night he found her perched on a side table in the kitchens being entertained by the house elves when he had gone for a snack. She had given him a sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes and left him carrying a small left over biscuit.

As much as he liked the girl, he was going to have to resort to some less than desirable measures if she wouldn’t be able to perform in the following days. It was becoming far too late in the year to have not gained anything.

~

Draco always felt dreadful when he woke to her side of the bed empty. She had somehow become accustomed to waking up before him and leaving their room without a word. She became water; necessary, yet always slipping through his fingers.

He had known that he needed to tell Ember about his tasks. She had been right; her fate was tied to his and if he failed the consequences would be shared. Hadn’t he said that keeping her in the dark was dangerous for her and something he would never do? So how did he manage to rationalize that rational away? 

When he actually let himself think about it, which wasn’t often, the reason was twofold. 

Pride. The Malfoy’s were a prideful family. Their superiority was directly linked to their accomplishments. Draco had yet to achieve anything noteworthy and this was his chance to prove himself. He could taste the satisfaction on the tip of his tongue; the opportunity had been placed before him and he only needed to rise to the occasion. He wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that. 

The other was fear. He had feared that she would look at him differently to know that he was due to become a murderer, amongst other things. He didn’t want her to think of him as a murderer. He could barely stomach the thought; he didn’t need her opinions to weigh on his conscious too.

He didn’t know what he expected to happen. He hadn’t thought that far in advance. He most definitely didn’t expect Snape to go blabbing to her, but he guessed that he was naïve enough to think Snape wouldn’t have used her to get to him. In the end, she hadn’t even asked what the tasks were. She had been upset that he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her in the first place.  
It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust anyone with this. The stakes were too high, the situation too fragile, and too many people were counting on him to not fuck it up. His entire family’s reputation and redemption was on his shoulders. His alone. He didn’t need the pressure from her as well.

With her things were easy; things were simple. Sure, there were so many complications surrounding them, but like the eye of a storm; she was safety. She was a breath of fresh air when everything seemed bleak and when they had been alone together all his problems were far away. 

And now, without her consistent company, the air in his lungs had returned to lead.

He wanted to form some semblance of an apology, but he never saw her long enough to utter more than a greeting before she fluttered away. It mattered little, he didn’t have the courage to admit that he was wrong anyway.

If he hadn’t known better, he would have assumed that she was ignoring him. If it was Parkinson he would have been right, but his Ember didn’t have a petty bone in her body. She was simply living her life around him, like she said she would.

And he missed her. 

He never saw her in the corridors, or by the classrooms, and he never saw her in the Great Hall. The times he did see her, he was afraid that she wasn’t eating. Would she have even figured out how to get food without going to the Great Hall? He’d taken to leaving a plate of food on the coffee table in their room before he climbed into bed.

It was always nibbled on come morning.

Of course, he knew the most probable place for her to be was with Snape. But he couldn’t stand to be around him longer than he had to. His eyes followed him everywhere and when he could manage to corner him, he pressured him to reveal his plans and vigorously offered his expertise. He didn’t need Snape. He didn’t need him to waltz in and claim his ideas stupid or worse, to steal his recognition. He avoided him as much as possible, which made it inherently easy to avoid Ember as well.

When he wasn’t thinking about her he was focused on his mission. 

When Draco had found a crazed, dripping wet, Montague the year before he hadn’t expected his bursts of manic explanations about being trapped in a cabinet on the first floor to give Draco the key to his redemption. Realizing that the cabinet Montague was talking about was in fact a vanishing cabinet gave Draco the brilliant idea to use the damaged artifact as a passage for the Death Eaters to infiltrate.

He had managed to make use of the Room of Requirement to store the broken cabinet. He got the idea from Potter and his band of righteous misfits who had used the room to braid each other’s hair under Umbridge’s nose the year before. Getting the cabinet secure was unfortunately easy compared to trying to repair it. He hadn’t expected it to be easy, even Borgin admitted that it would be difficult to accomplish without his help, but he had foolishly hoped that his stroke of luck would extend to the repairing of the cabinet as well.

The broken cabinet was stealing all of his time, patience, and energy. The Room of Requirement provided the perfect spot for him to work. It also allowed him to hide from all other distractions. His grades were plummeting because he barely attended his classes. He had given up his treasure spot of the Quidditch team. He ignored all his prefect duties. He became a whisper to any who knew him. 

And he was miserable.

~

Ember was a ghost. She was lonelier than ever, but in her reclusiveness, she found a strength she didn’t know she had. She could persevere on her own. 

No outside help needed, thank you very much.

She had thrown herself into her gift. It was slow coming and becoming more of a frustration than anything else, but it was better than focusing her time on a boy that couldn’t trust her enough.  
She couldn’t bear to see him overlook her, so she didn’t give him the option. She tried to put it all behind her; the manor, her parents, her marriage- all of it. When she thought about it, it only brought her pain and confusion and it wrecked her concentration which was something she wasn’t willing to part with.

She needed all the focus and all the concentration she had to deal with her sessions with Professor Snape. While nothing had progressed, she was beginning to feel at ease with the Professor. In fact, most times she forgot that he was a Death Eater all together. Sure, his appearance and demeanor were intimidating but he had treated her with enough respect that after a few weeks she had just accepted that he had a dark side. Draco had been right; his bark was far worse than his bite. He wanted to help. Now whether that was for selfish reasons, for the Dark Lord, or on the very unlikely chance that it was purely to help her; she wasn’t in a position refuse it.

Because whether she was being made into a weapon for the Dark Lord or not she needed to be able to control the part of her that had saved her life. It was a self-designed mission of her own to figure out why she was so different from her peers. 

The first few weeks she hadn’t really had any interaction with the students around her. Oh, she had a few odd glares sent her way by Pansy on the off chance that they had crossed paths, and she had caught Blaise’s eyes one morning as he left the Slytherin Common Room when she was leaving Professor Snape’s office, but no conversations took place. At least with the students.

She had been reading the ingredients of Murtlap Essence one night in the candlelight of Snape’s office when there was a loud knock on the door. Professor Snape’s eyes had furrowed at her over his stack on third-year ungraded essays before frowning and opening the door with an easy flourish of his wand.

There stood a robust man with his arm reached up as if he was about to knock once more. His face was covered in wrinkles and his hair had seen better days. His mouth was opened in mild surprise before twisting into a simple smile.

“Ah, Horace, is there something I can do for you?” Professor Snape called over a slightly confused Ember.

The man, Horace, shuffled into the office with meek laughter. “I was wondering if you had last year’s inventory of the cupboard? I can’t seem to find enough valerian root.”

Professor Snape nodded and reached for a drawer just off the side of his desk and began flicking through files. Horace continued to walk towards the desk, “The sixths years are expected to brew draught of the living death you know. Oh!” He jumped and held his hand to his throat when he noticed Ember sitting in the spare chair. “I beg your pardon Severus! I did not know that you would be with a student this late in the evening.”

Professor Snape paused in his search to turn and give Horace an overused scowl. “This is my apprentice. Ember, meet Professor Slughorn our returning potions master.” He introduced quickly  
.  
“Ohhh!” Professor Slughorn casually adjusted his bowtie and brushed imaginary dust off his blazer before reaching a hand out towards Ember, “What a pleasure to make your acquaintance! I, of course heard about Severus taking on a young apprentice. You must be quite the skilled witch to rise to such a position.”

She stared at the offered hand with only half masked distaste. He was entirely too bubbly for it to be so late, and seemed quite insincere in his flattery. He looked her over as if finding a diamond in the rough and she didn’t appreciate such an intense scrutiny; or the superficial smile he gave her.

She painted on a fake smile and shook his hand quickly, “Lovely to meet you Professor.”

He looked mighty happy with himself and teetered on his feet. “Why have you been hiding such a marvel down here Severus?” He asked rhetorically.

Snape rolled his eyes to his unassuming old professor. “Yes. I keep her locked down here at all hours.” The amount of sarcasm was particularly dripping this evening.

“Well if you ever find the time to indulge an old man with your adeptness, please do drop by my office.”

Ember let out a rigid laugh, “It would be a pleasure professor. I’m sure we’d have a lot to discuss.”

His eyes lit up with such a proposed banter. “Of course, of course” He murmured before he twisted back towards an unimpressed Professor Snape, “Now I really do be needing that inventory Severus, and it’s getting quite late. I can’t climb all those stairs like I use to you know and you unfortunately don’t keep a fireplace in your office. Which is rather curious- you don’t by chance-”  
“Here,” Professor Snape cut him off with a sharp extension of parchment thrust at the potions master.

Professor Slughorn eagerly grabbed the inventory and straightened his shoulders, “Yes, thank you! I wish you both a goodnight!”

He gave Ember a quick pat on the shoulder, that she desperately tried not to outwardly cringe at, and strode out of the office.

Once the door was safely shut, she looked back to Professor Snape who was trying to cover up a growing smirk. She cocked her head to the side in question and Snape shook his head slightly, gazing back down at the essays. “You’re getting better at that you know,” he commented easily.

“What?” 

“Lying.”

~

It was a rainy Saturday morning when she properly met another Hogwarts student. She had been walking down the corridor that connected to the courtyard, because she couldn’t spend another moment in the library, when a girl had spoken breezily, “Rain is lovely this time of year, don’t you think?”

He voice was soft like twinkling lights and it took a moment for Ember to realize that the question had been aimed to her. Sitting primly on one of the benches sat a small girl with long blonde hair that was just a few shades yellower than Draco’s. Her eyes were like carved out sapphires and her lips were closed in a pleasant, welcoming, smile.

Ember crossed her arms over her chest, her shoulders curling in on herself, and looked out into the abandoned courtyard as the steady rain drenched the cobblestones. She had never particularly liked the rain. “I suppose,” She acquiesced.

The girl tilted her head curiously, “Your Professor Snape’s apprentice, aren’t you?”

Ember swallowed and couldn’t help glancing around them like she was suddenly exposed before nodding and holding her hand out to the girl, “My name is Ember.”

She smiled softly and grasped her hand in a gentle hold, “I’m Luna,” and as if she would have asked anyone who had just come from around the corner, “Would you like to go to the Quidditch match with me?”

And that was how she found herself drenched from head to toe watching her first Quidditch game in the misting rain with one eccentric Ravenclaw and smiling for the first time in weeks.

Turns out she didn’t always have to be invisible.

~

“Do you think that it could be something like the opposite of an Obscurus?” 

Ember was sat cross legged on the cold floor of Professor Snape’s office after a particularly long day of researching. On nights when they would specifically work on trying to preform her gift the Professor would move the hard chair she usually occupied to the side of the room. They had both discovered that she was more comfortable if she didn’t feel as put on display as she was when sitting in the chair.

He just gave her an incredulous look as if to say ‘don’t you think that’s the first thing I thought of?’ and she frowned as she riffled through the pages of notes she had written that afternoon. She had been working on so little sleep it was becoming hazardous to her research process. She wasn’t absorbing things at her normal pace and therefore she had started to write down everything that she thought might be even slightly useful so that she could ponder it when she was more competent.

“What if it’s some type of rare sickness?” She asked a moment later.

“You’re not ill,” was his quick response. 

She sighed in frustration while she rubbed at her irritated eyes tiredly. It came as a shock when she realized why she hadn’t been sleeping well since she came to Hogwarts. At first she thought it was due to the weak ground her and Draco stood on and so she was jarred to find out that it was actually because of the bed itself. She didn’t know she was claustrophobic, and therefore didn’t think much of it when Draco always drew the curtains over the bed. It was only when she took desperate naps during the day with the curtains hung over the posts did she realize the problem.

Realizing the problem didn’t fix the problem though. She was too nervous to speak to Draco about it and therefore stubbornly resigned herself to a year of restless sleep.

He shook his head and stood up from his vigil, “Let’s try the elixir.”

Snape had been brewing a simple calming drought for the last week and a half. It was traditionally used in a medical ward to settle patients and lower their inhibitions. He hoped that it would be able to help her focus on that stroke of light that was inside of her.

Ember got up from her place on the floor and met him at the side table that held a cauldron with a bubbling potion that smelled of mint. He ladled a portion into a small glass and gave it to her.  
She licked her suddenly dry lips before she downed the glass like a seasoned drinker. Impressed, he thought she would do rather well with a shot of Firewhiskey.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she walked to the center of the room. She caught his gaze before she nervously closed her eyes and tried to focus on the breathing technique he had taught her over the past fortnight.

In and out she breathed for well over five minutes trying to decide if the potion was affecting her at all or not. She assumed the fact that her nerves had left her was answer enough.

“Begin,” Professor Snape demanded.

She stretched her arms out to her sides as she focused all her might on her core, trying to feel the warmth of her own being and capture it. 

“Concentrate,” He urged, and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.” He growled after a moment.

She sighed as she opened her eyes and saw his face was dangerously tight. “I am trying,” She implored. She wasn’t sure how much more failed attempts she could take.

“This is clearly not working.” Professor Snape shook his head as he drawled, “I didn’t want it to come to this…”

“Come to what?”

Snape flung his wand in her direction and she was helpless as a laceration cut across the top of her chest. She took a few steps back and stared at him in shock. It wasn’t that the pain had particularly hurt her, it was more the sting of betrayal that pained her.

They stared at each other for a moment as blood began to bloom through the fabric of her uniform. He flicked his wand again and blood poured from her shoulder.  
“Why are you-” She begged before another slice cut her thigh open. 

He sent four more lacerations in quick succession. “Defend yourself!” He beseeched as he made two quick strides towards her.

She tripped over her feet as she tried to keep enough distance between them. Why was he doing this? 

“I can’t!” She argued as the pain began to register and her hands coated with blood as she grasped at her chest.

“Yes you can!” He growled, quickly capturing her in a full body-bind curse.

Her limbs contracted together as she literally became a stone. Tears streamed down her face as she felt trapped in her own body. She could feel her sub-conscious began to crawl up the walls of her mind, her basic instinct to make the pain stop, make the betrayal stop.

He lifted the bind before quickly casting another at her; shouting, “Obscuro!”

She fell hard to her knees as her sight was taken from her, pain radiated through her entire being and all she could think of was how to flee this unwarranted attack.

She began to crawl towards the closed door when two more cuts opened across her stomach. Snape took a deep breath and said, “Crucio!”

Blinding pain radiated throughout her. She couldn’t locate a specific part of her that hurt as it surrounded her body in unrelenting torment. Her whole body collapsed on the floor, she could feel herself vibrate against the stone; her eye sight lost. She was about to give up when suddenly the all-consuming agony stopped. Too afraid to give herself a moment to recover, she opened her eyes to see Snape towering over her, his face drained of color.

She saw his jaw clench and felt a discomforting pressure inside her mind as if it was being invaded by an intruder. She could do nothing to resist as it purged through her mind and as quick as it was there, it was gone.

He lowered his wand and without another thought, Ember struggled to her feet and fled his office. Tears clouded her vision and sobs tore themselves from her throat as she ran across the dungeons.

Snape stared down in the place she had just vacated in horror before rushing towards his rows and rows of vials.

~

Draco stared lazily outside the gaping window into the water of the Black Lake. He had just returned from dinner and was really starting to regret having any friends to begin with.  
He had stared at the Vanishing Cabinet for hours before deciding that he wouldn’t achieve anything worthwhile that night. His stomach had clenched in hunger and he decided to make his way down to the Great Hall.

He had slid into his place beside Crabbe easily and reached for a piece of Shepherd’s Pie only to realize that conversation had ground to a halt. He glanced up at the faces he had known for years only to see cautious glances.

“What?” He barked at them.

“Are you okay mate? We haven’t really seen you in days.” Goyle stuttered out after sharing a look with Crabbe.

“I’m fine,” Draco gritted out before returning his attention back to his dinner. “Been studying. Sprout’s essay’s been a bitch.”

“Yeah that snargaluff freaks me out man. All those tentacles and shit,” Crabbe laughed out crudely to have Goyle join him. 

Draco rolled his eyes, how daft do you have to be that a fucking snargaluff is your main problem?

Pansy copied him before she swept her black hair over her shoulder and in a disgusted voice asked, “Do you even know how to not stuff your face Vincent?”

Goyle began to cackle, and even Draco had to smirk as Crabbe turned a vicious red and lowered his fork before sending a glare to Pansy.

“How’s Ember? I haven’t seen her around lately.” Blaise asked as the laughter died down.

Draco clenched his jaw, definitely not in the mood to discuss his elusive wife, and shrugged while glaring down at his food. “She’s fine. Snape’s been keeping her busy.”

Blaise rose a brow as Draco shoveled another spoonful into his mouth clearly avoiding his eyes. 

“I heard from a second year that she sat in the back of their D.A.D.A. class on Wednesday. Didn’t say a word the entire time. Just like she was a shadow,” Goyle added.

Draco flinched at his wording and couldn’t escape the withering glance Blaise gave him. It penetrated right into his soul as if he knew what Draco had told her.

Pansy scoffed her ugly nose scrunched in distaste. “Who even cares? She’s what? Twelve? And claims she’s good enough to be Snape’s bloody apprentice?”

“Fifteen,” Draco snapped. “She’s fifteen. And damn Parkinson try to sound more jealous.” He shoved his plate away from him and stood up in a frustrated fever, stomping out of the Great Hall.

Dinner had just made him upset and wishing more than anything that he had snuck a bottle of his father’s firewhiskey into his trunk like he had the year before. His father had been furious but the nights of elation with his friends in the darkness of the Slytherin Common Room had been worth the howler.

His quiet night was roughly disrupted when the door opened with a resounding bang.

It took him a moment to process that Ember had flown through the door covered in blood and sobbing as she fell to her knees; the door slamming shut behind her.

What the fucking hell?

He crossed their room in four long strides and fell next to her. Her sobs pierced through his chest and he took in her bruised and battered body. Blood covered her skin in a layer of grotesque red. Her eyes were screwed shut; body trembling.

He laid his hand on her back and she flinched back so hard that he barely had time to feel the sharp sting of rejection slash through his soul before her green eyes flew to meet his. They were terrified and dim all in one; that sparkle that he loved so much nowhere to be found. He gazed at her horrified, “Em? Em, what happened?”

A harsher round of sobs escaped her as she clutched her stomach and began to rock herself back and forth shaking her head. Suddenly there was a banging on their door that caused both her and Draco to jump.

He touched the back of her head softly before he strode over to the door and wrenched it open to reveal a rather hazard looking Professor Snape. He glared at the older wizard who seemed to look right through him to the traumatized girl bawling on the ground. Quickly he put two and two together.

“What did you do?” He hissed through gritted teeth.

To his credit, Snape looked a bit sick and speechless as he thrust a vial into Draco’s hand, “Make sure she drinks that. It will help with the pain. Don’t take her to Pomphrey.”

Draco vaguely felt himself take the vial as his mind spun out of control; “What the hell did you do to her Snape?!” 

Snape just shook his head, between Draco’s iced fire glare and Ember’s wailing, and whispered, “It was necessary. She-”

Draco found he had heard enough. “Fuck off,” He spat and slammed the door into his Head of House’s face.

Without a thought, he pocketed the vial and returned to the quivering girl whimpering on the ground. Transgressions forgotten, he placed his hand on her back and began to rub up and down in a gentle rhythm. “Em…” He whispered, but she only shook her head.

“Em, sweetheart, what did he do?” He whispered calmly as he brushed her sweaty blood-clumped hair over her shoulder to see her face still pinched tight in pain.

It took her a moment, but the continuous movement of his hand seemed to help soothe her, before she spluttered out two words that made his hot blood run cold, “Cruciatus Curse.” 

Draco froze. What the hell had they been doing in those lessons?

“He-I… He just…” She stuttered out. 

He hushed her gently, “It’s okay, it’s okay. You’re gone be alright.”

He waited a few minutes longer; sitting there on the cold ground with his arm petting her softly as her cries turned into soft whimpers. “Think we can get you to the bed?” He asked softly.

After a few unsteady breaths, she nodded her head and uncurled herself just enough for him to wrap an arm around her tender waist and help her stand.

He walked with her towards their bed before sitting her gently on the edge. Finally uncurled, he was able to absorb her distressed state, emphasized by the large spots of crusted blood, as her hands laid limply in her lap. 

He slowly reached for her tie and loosened it before sliding it over her neck and tossing it to the ground. Next he cautiously began to unbutton her now red blouse and slowly slid the shirt down her arms. She only stared hollowly at her lap and let him move her limbs gently.

Once she was just in her undershirt he had to take a moment. In all honesty, it looked much worse than it was upon inspection. But at the initial sight he let out a, “Merlin…” causing her to whimper. It was the blood that caused his face to pale. Her beautiful skin looked as if it had come out of a horror story. There were several places where rude gashes were already closed over.  
He dropped her ruined shirt to the ground and quickly grabbed and wetted a flannel from the washroom. She was exactly as he left her when he returned a moment later. 

He knelt in front of her and tenderly began wiping the cloth down her arms and over the top of her chest and face until he could see her milky skin instead of vicious red. He unlaced her boots and reached into his pocket for the almost forgotten vial.

As he brought it up to her lips she jerked violently and her frightened eyes met his as she thrashed her head from side to side and began to cry all over again. He didn’t waste a second to reach up and wrap his arms around her bringing her into his chest. She fought him for a moment until he continued to rub her back and pet her hair while whispering sweet nothings into her ear.  
He slowly sat beside her on the bed, keeping his arm wrapped around her shoulders and tugged her under his arm and to his chest. “Come on,” He urged, bringing the vial up to her lips once more. “It will make you feel better. I promise.”

She shrunk into his embrace before gently nodding her head. After the vial was empty, he sat with her glued to his side for a while until her body relaxed against his. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head tiredly.

“Then let’s get some sleep, yeah?” 

She nodded.

He shifted away from her and stood up to bring the covers of their bed down. She crawled to the top of the bed and tucked her legs underneath. He walked around shedding his own button up shirt and slid into the bed beside her.

She instantly curled up with her head on his chest without invitation, not that he minded. He wrapped his arm around her and began to lazily draw patterns over her skin as if he had done it a thousand times before. She tucked her head under his chin and gripped his shirt in her fist tightly.

How had this happened? Had Snape been beating and butchering her this entire time? 

It pained him to think that she might have thought that he wouldn’t help her; that she hadn’t trusted him. And a moment later it hurt even more to realize that this must have been how she had felt all those weeks ago.

He would talk with her in the morning. Hell, he would take the whole day off to make sure that she was alright and sort everything out. 

When he felt her breaths slow he slowly reached up to pull the tassel down but paused when her voice spoke up softly, “Please don’t tonight.”

He let his hand fall back to her elbow as he gently kissed her head. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

And even with the weight of Ember laying on him, his chest felt as light as a feather.


	14. The First Daffodils of Spring

“I found peace in your violence. Can’t show me there’s no use in trying. I’m at one, and I’ve been quiet too long.”  
-Marshmello, Khalid, Silence

When Draco woke in the morning he was pleasantly surprised to find her still tucked into his side. Her fingers were slowly clenching and unclenching his shirt; balling her hand into a fist before flattening her palm against his torso. He nuzzled the top of her head with his cheek and went to wrap his arm around her a little tighter but winced as the feeling started to come back to the numb limb. She had slept with her head and neck cocooned in the place where his shoulder met his chest. Trying to regain feeling, he wiggled his fingers content enough to deal with this slight aggravation for the rest of his life if she would allow it. This was the most intimacy he had ever known and it wasn’t until now that he knew he had been craving it all along.

“How are you feeling?” He whispered into her hair. His newly restored arm finally able to cradle her closer to his body. Gently, he ran his fingers through her hair until all the tangles were gone.

She shrugged her shoulder and sighed softly. The arm on his torso slowly retracted back to her chest like she was curling back into her shell.

“Can you tell me what happened?” He tried to keep his tone soothing when everything shouted inside of him, demanding information. He never wanted to see her in such a state again.

He felt her face scrunch up against his shirt. He didn’t have to see it to know that it was adorable. A tiny whine escaped from the back of her throat before she slowly detangled their limbs and sat up. He tried not to focus on suddenly feeling incomplete as every place her body touched his went cold.

Her long fingers reached for her head and rubbed against her temples before she turned to face him. 

After weeks of not truly seeing her face, he cherished the moment. Her face was pale with small smudges of dirt brushed over her cheeks with tear stained lines running through them. Her eyes were tired and puffy around the edges but never had the vibrant green looked more beautiful. Even in this exhausted state, he could effortlessly admire her divine features.

“Don’t you have lessons?” Her voice came out as a hoarse croak and she winced.

He continued to gaze at her lazily from the comfort of the feathered pillows and shook his head. “I’m ditching. We should talk about things.”

Her eyes left his and settled on the hand he laid across his stomach. Hesitantly she nodded her head, “Can I take a bath first?”

He gave her a soft smile and gradually stood up from the bed. “Sure, I’ll go grab some food.”

Once the water in her bath had turned cold, Ember put on her comfiest cotton dress and brushed her teeth, purposefully ignoring her reflection from the mirror. She was drying her hair with a towel when she returned to the main room.

Draco was sitting in one of the arm chair with a glass of pumpkin juice. She sat herself in the other chair and tucked her legs underneath her; draping her dress over her knees modestly. She still scrunched her hair with her towel as she stared into the fire place, oddly wondering if the magic fire ever truly died. 

“Snape and I haven’t made any progress,” She whispered into the silence, feeling his stare yet unable to meet his eyes.

A weight, one that he didn’t even know he had, lifted from Draco’s shoulders. It was comforting to know that he hadn’t been the only one to be this far into the school year and have nothing to show for it.

When she continued, her voice was thin and even with an ethereal strength as alluring as a siren’s song. “Last night started out like any other lesson we’ve had. We’ve been trying to learn what my condition is and how to activate it. Like I said, we haven’t gotten very far, I haven’t been able to—” She exhaled; frustrated. “Out of nowhere he just started throwing curses at me. He kept advancing and goading me until he pushed too far and I…glowed again.”

The light from the fireplace flickered over her profile as she peered into the flames with unfocused eyes. Her damp hair had started to curl into its natural waves. Draco couldn’t read her like he so easily could before. Where her silences were once one filled with curious doe eyes and the innocent fidget of fingers, now they were still as stone and flooded with discontent.

“I understand why he did it. The only time it has worked has been when I’ve been forced.” She paused, running her tongue across her bottom lip, “Maybe that’s the only time it works…” She said dejectedly.

Draco swallowed thickly, “He hasn’t been…torturing you has he? With all those lessons.”

She shook her head, still not meeting his gaze, “No. We’ve been getting on fine. I think that’s why it was more traumatizing. I trusted him. I know he’s a Death Eater and all, but I don’t know… I didn’t think he’d hurt me while we’re here and he’s helping me.” Each sentence was punctuated with a pause as if she had spent the night formulating her thoughts into undisputed facts.

He sighed and shifted his elbows to rest on his knees. “Maybe you shouldn’t have lessons anymore if he’s going resort to torturing you.”

“Maybe,” She agreed before finally turning her defeated eyes to his, “But what a happens when were summoned by You-Know-Who and I have nothing to show him?”

That silenced him. It was clear she understood just what kind of danger surrounded them. Time on her own had made her mature; all whimsical fantasies had been replaced with clear realistic goals. He didn’t know how it had escaped his notice, but she was under a more physical threat than he was. Her abilities were only presenting themselves when she was thoughtlessly abused. She would have no second chances; her death would be imminent upon her failure. No testimonies, bribes, or excuses could save her. What was familial despair and disregard to death?

“How have you been?” She asked softly, conversationally, trying to shift the topic of conversation away from her. 

He sighed, now or never.

“Look this summer was,” He paused searching for a word that could sufficiently define those hot months, “harsh. In the end, we didn’t have a moment to breathe before the next catastrophe happened.” He avoided her stare and began to nervously chew on the inside of his cheek. “And those few days before we left, they were good days. Days that I didn’t want to ruin. I had every intention of telling you, there just wasn’t ever a good time. These tasks they’re heavy, it’s not something you can just slip into casual conversation.”

A pregnant pause filled the space between them.

She nodded. “It was wrong of me to expect that just because we’re stuck together that you should trust me. You have to earn trust. So many things were changing, and you were my anchor, and maybe I was smothering you and didn’t realize it. Snape thought you had told me, and the fact that you didn’t trust me when I already trusted you it just hurt.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you Em.”

She looked up at him dubiously.

“No. Honestly I do. I have to. We have to trust each other, right?” His icy blue eyes were asking for confirmation as he looked at her expectantly.

“I don’t want to trust each other just because we have to.” She whispered forlornly, her lips fading into a frown.

“I don’t want that either.”

He took a long deep breath as he ran a hand tiredly over his face.

She nodded waiting for him to continue. “I need you to try and understand something I’m not even sure I can explain.

“After everything that happened at the end of last term, Volde-… You-Know-Who he… well he might as well have disowned my family. My father always has to be the best, and he worked his way up to being one of You-Know-Who’s most trusted followers. After what happened at the ministry and my father going to Azkaban, You-Know-Who tossed the Malfoy name down into the rubbish and everything since then has been about regaining his favor. Everything.

“And we’ve never been in this position before. We’ve always been on the top. My mother thought he would murder us for my father’s infractions. She wouldn’t step out the front door for weeks. All we could do was wait. It was all fucked up. Suddenly all of our connections were just gone. My father’s trial was so public, that anyone we knew from the ministry wanted nothing to do with us. Even the lesser Death Eaters snickered behind our backs. Many of them laughed when he decided to make me a Death Eater. The only choice we have to survive this is to regain You-Know-Who’s favor.

“He gave me these tasks to test me. Only Snape and I have entrance to Hogwarts and can get this close to Dumbledore. It’s the reason why I’m the youngest Death Eater. If I don’t succeed, that’s it for the Malfoy’s. We’ll be cast out of society, if not murdered by one side or the other. We’ll have no more connections. These tasks, they’re how I can show them all that the Malfoy’s are still powerful. I have to do it on my own so that I can prove myself to him and to my father and to everyone.”

“You don’t have to prove yourself to me.”

He had almost forgot she was even there. The way she gazed at him, it was soft and understanding and it radiated like stars. He felt warm honey spread out from his soul filling every ache he had ever had with a feeling of irrevocable acceptance. His whole body melted from the look in her eyes and his throat suddenly felt dry.

“You were our saving grace. Of course, they were so fucking stupid to think that our marriage could have been hidden from the Dark Lord in the first place, but you having abilities? Fucking game changer, Em. You’re a Malfoy and if you can succeed in whatever plans he has for you…well that will only help us in the long run.”

Speaking it out loud, was like the tiny box that had been shoved inside was finally given a skylight carved from the embers of past failures. 

She let his words sink into the air before responding evenly, “I understand. If this is something you need to do by yourself, I get it. That being said, If you don’t let me in on plans, I’m going to end up being a liability. I’ve been a liability my whole life and I’m trying my best not to be, but I can’t do it alone.”

Draco nodded. It was a more than reasonable request, something he knew in a normal world she shouldn’t have had to ask for. He inhaled deeply and exhaled the truth, “I’m trying to find a way to let the Death Eaters into the castle”

Her eyes noticeably widened as if she hadn’t expected him to actually divulge the tasks to her. Like she didn’t believe that he actually trusted her. 

“You-Know-Who wants control over Hogwarts.” He explained.

Her head shook, confusion shining over her eyes, “But with Dumbledore around even if you get the Death Eaters in how does he expect to take over-” She paused when she noticed his brows had pulled together and his eyes were pleading.

Realization dawned over her face the longer he looked at her and shook her to her core. “He wants you to-” She gulped unable to say the word and whispered, “get rid of Dumbledore?”

He only nodded.

She blinked rapidly as her breaths became deeper as dread washed over her like a tsunami. “He can’t expect you to do that! That’s a fool’s errand Draco, its suicide!”

“It’s suicide either way…” He implored, his voice coming out in a desperate plea. “If I don’t kill him, You-Know-Who is going to kill me and my parents and you…”

“You don’t have the resources for this!” She gestured wildly, “Why can’t he give the task to Snape? Snape managed to find work here, he must have a loyalty with Dumbledore!”

“Because he’s testing me.” He beseeched, his grey eyes willing her to understand.

The statement took all the wind out of her sails. That was the missing link; he had given him an unachievable task to punish Lucius further. She huffed with tangible frustration. The boy before her was too young to have his father’s failures as his own. How long had he kept this bottled up inside without any type of support? It wasn’t fair.

She felt the instinctual need to pull away from his eyes and run from the unfolding disaster. He couldn’t become a murderer. She figured that the Death Eaters had blood on their hands but not him. He just couldn’t. The thought seemed so absurd. She couldn’t see how this would ever end well for him- for any of them. The boy before her was burdened so heavily she couldn’t see how he was holding himself up. 

“How are you even going to get close enough to him to-” She asked, bewildered.

“I’m working on it.” His eyes flashed at her telling her to tread no further.

She nodded firmly. “We’re in this together. I’ll help in any way that I can.” 

He glanced over her figure. The chair swallowed her in lush green velvet. Her hair was more or less dry; her cheeks flushed with raw emotion. Eyes that could pierce his soul screamed her sincerity. He latched onto it without a real thought, his constant feeling of sinking in doubts and responsibilities vanished with the sturdy unwavering support she was supplying. 

“Can we go back to how it was before? I don’t like never seeing you.”

There was nothing she wanted more than to go back to how it was. If he had asked that two months ago, she would have quickly accepted without hesitance. She would have easily slipped into whatever roll he wanted her to play. It wasn’t two months ago though; she had grown and could still feel the sting of his words like they were branded on her heart. “I didn’t think you wanted me around…thought I was nothing but a waste of time to you.”

He shook his head fervently; shifting closer to her, wishing he could leap over the coffee table separating them and shake her until she understood that he never truly meant those awful words. “It was never like that. I know you’re adjusting to everything, but I’m still adjusting too. Everything I’ve ever known has been cut and dry, this or that, and you- sweetheart you’re a however.”

She blushed at the profoundness of his words. It wasn’t an apology, but he probably hadn’t ever had to apologize for anything in his life. “I’d like to see you more too. I’ve been lonely,” She admitted.

Draco looked at her sympathetically, he had been lonely too. “We’ll just have to be alone together.”

It was two simple words but it concealed everything they were. They were alone together in this world. No one else would ever be in their position. They had let the consequences of others drive a rift between them needlessly when they would always be stronger together. 

His eyes were a pool of stormy skies that told her he would have her back like no one else could. The look pulled at her chest flushing it with understanding, with sorrow, with a vulnerability that stole her breath. Instinctually, she got out of her seat and wrapped her arms his shoulders and pulled him into her chest. “Alone together,” She confirmed into his hair.

“Merlin we’re a mess,” He chuckled without humor as he wrapped his arms around her waist nuzzling into her comfort. She nodded and squeezed him all the more tighter for it.

~

The rest of the afternoon they spent laying on their stomachs by the fire. A hefty supply of parchment, ink, and books surrounded them. Empty tea cups and a plate filled with the crumbs of their lunch lay forgotten by the legs of the table. The air between them was clear without secrets and feelings of inadequacy clouding it with miscommunication and misunderstandings.

Draco was taking the opportunity to finish the homework that had been neglected for far too long. When things would become frustrating, he would steal glances at Ember. Her eyes were reading over layers and layers of research. He was enraptured by the way she nibbled on her bottom lip, wondering what they tasted like.

She would catch his distracted gaze and chastise him for getting off task; all with deliciously rosy cheeks. He would give her cheeky remarks and she would batt his flirtations away with bashful giggles and demand to see what he was working on. More than once she even helped him through a problem. He could sink into the feeling of simply being together again. Her shy smile seemed to heal all the aches and stress of the last few months. He was easily intoxicated by the returning intimacy of their reformed relationship. 

How had he fucked it up enough to disregard how entirely right it felt just to have her there next to him? 

He was once again admiring her when she tensed. Her feet, that had been swinging in the air, froze and her lips parted.

“What is it?”

Green eyes flashed up to him. 

“How much do you know about the patronus charm?”

~

Ember held the withered copy of Advances in Defensive Charms she had checked out of the library not two weeks ago in her hand as she made her way to the other side of the dungeons. A pace that was usually riddled with hesitance, even after all these weeks, was suddenly brisk and certain.

She knocked on the door with more refined patience than she knew she possessed. Inhaling deeply, clinging to the rush of confidence and desperate adrenaline racing through her veins, she smoothed out her dress and waited.

If given the choice, she would have preferred to never walk back into the backdrop of the nightmare of the night before, but she was accustomed to not having a choice.

She heard a muffled, “Enter,” and gently pushed the door wide. The familiar scent of old cedar and rain hit her like a test.

Snape was sat at his desk scribbling into a notebook vigorously. His coal eyes glanced up as the door swung open and he froze when he saw her standing in the entry way. His usual black robes were hung up on an otherwise empty coatrack in the back leaving him in plain black slacks and a matching black tunic. She vaguely remembered that this was his planning period and he must not have been expecting anyone to disrupt him, least of all her.

Scraping at the small amount of courage in the depth of her soul she marched right up to his desk and flattened the textbook in front of him resolutely.

He raised an eyebrow at her, before looking down at the page before him the words Patronus Charm glaring up at him. His face wrinkled in confusion as he blinked at the overused text. He glanced back up at her face that was hard in places he had always seen as soft, her eyes like rekindled green fire. 

“A Patronus?” He drawled. “What? Are you daft enough to believe that you can procure a patronus? It is an immensely complicated and ridiculously difficult charm.”

“No.”

“No?” His asked incredulously.

“No. I believe that I am a patronus.”

He gaped at the amount of absolute certainty in her voice as she held herself tall and looked down on him with an unwavering conviction. “A patronus charm takes a form,” He reminded her, bewildered.

She shook her head and leaned over the desk to point out a specific paragraph labelled: Types. “A corporeal patronus takes a form but there’s also an incorporeal patronus. I think it usually means that it’s a mist or wisp of protective light.”

“Alright…” He looked at her dubiously.

She rocked on the balls of her feet and licked her lips nervously under his disbelieving gaze. “I think I’m a incorporeal patronus. I think my body takes on the shape of its own.”

His eyes narrowly glanced over her convinced face and his lips pursed. He sighed before gazing back at the book, rubbing his jaw absently. He never would have thought about it, because it was such a farfetched idea, but it held enough weight that he believed it could potentially be an explanation.

She correctly took his silence as him considering the possibility and eagerly sat down on the edge of the unoccupied chair with her elbows resting on the desk. She tried to catch his obsidian eyes, “It means that I could be a shield, right?”

His eyebrows remained furrowed and he sucked at his teeth as he regarded her. “Logically. It’s possible. If we treated your affliction with the approach of the charm perhaps we could receive more results and therefore know of its potency.”

She gave him a hope-filled smile, “So we can start on that approach tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” He questioned. They were on the peak of a breakthrough and she was willing to push exploration until tomorrow?

She nodded and pressed the palm of her hands into the edge of his desk to stand back, “I promised Draco I’d eat dinner with him tonight.”

Her face was far more relaxed than he had ever seen. He had expected that she would refuse to come back into his office and evade him. He thought he would have to track her down in a few days and drag her back to their lessons by her hair. He wouldn’t have blamed her- he had gotten little sleep last night. Yet here she stood with the composure fit for a Queen. 

“About last night…” He began only to have her cut him off with a raised hand.

“I understand Professor. I don’t agree with it, but I understand. Let’s just not have it happen again, yeah?”

He tilted his head to the side. How was it possible for her to be so reasonable? To be so refreshed after that terrors of the night before? She was an enigma through and through.

“Have a good evening Miss Malfoy.” He responded, turning his attention back to the pages of work before him.

She sashayed out of his office and after a moment he glanced back to the spot she had just vacated. He smirked when he realized:

She hadn’t correct him.

~

The Great Hall looked different at night, she noticed. Candles floated down from the ceiling and illuminated the stone walls warmly. Dinner had gone as well as Ember had expected it to. Going into it she was prepared for Pansy’s abrasive distaste for her and honestly interacting with the still intimidating group caused her apprehension, but Draco was in a good mood and it seemed that Blaise had developed a small soft spot for her and so she made it through reasonably unscathed minus an abundance of blushes.

And after dinner Draco had managed to escape the group with her and lead her all the way up to the seventh floor. Her stomach felt like it was blooming the first daffodils of spring after a long winter when his hand was in hers. They trekked up higher and higher into the castle without a care to the few stares they had received along the way. 

The pair passed three empty hallways before gliding by a large iron wrought cage where two small birds chirped; one black and one white. Ember stared back after them, wondering why such a symbol of balance would be represented so unceremoniously. Draco pulled them to a stop in a deserted corridor; the only adornment was a horrid painting of a wizard trying to teach trolls to dance.

She glanced curiously around the barren hall as Draco had dropped her hand with closed eyes and paced back and forth three times murmuring under his breath. Though it looked ridiculous, she waited patiently before a door magically formed in front of her eyes. She stared open mouthed barely registering Draco relinking their fingers and leading her inside.

It was filled with so many nonsensical things; all of which piled together in a cluttered jumbled mess. The random stuff was stacked into high columns formed into rows throughout the never-ending room. Never would anyone be able to navigate this mess, she had thought and yet Draco led her through the winding pathways like he did it every day. He stopped in front of a tall dark cabinet and gave it an unreadable look before turning to face her. “This is what I’ve been doing,” He explained.

She let go of his hand and approached the imposing piece of furniture to get a closer look. It was triangular with sharp arched edges. Ancient symbols were ominously sculpted into the wood symmetrically throughout the piece. She trailed her fingers over one of the embossed carvings that was in the shape of a crescent moon. “And what is it?” She asked.

“This is a vanishing cabinet.” He clasped his hands behind his back as he studied the dreadful thing that plagued his mind. “It has a twin in a store in Knockturn Alley.”

“Knockturn Alley?” She questioned, arching her delicate brow.

“Step off Diagon Alley,” He replied flippantly. 

“How does it work?”

He pursed his lips and tipped his head towards the cabinet, taking a step forward, “When both work properly it creates a passage from one cabinet to the other. If I can repair it-”

“You can lead the Death Eaters into the castle.” The words tumbled from her mouth easily and she gave him a small smile at the subtle amazement shining through his eyes.

“Exactly.”

He never knew an Ember that felt confident enough to so casually cut him, or anyone, off. Whatever had happened the past few weeks looked good on her. He was becoming more attracted to her with each passing moment.

The pair spent the rest of the evening sat in front of Draco’s troublesome obstacle. They comfortably talked into the early hours of the morning and by the time they had left the Room of Hidden Things, and stealthily sneaked back down to the dungeons, the tether of their bond had changed from ivory to steel.


	15. The White of the Season

“Call my bluff, call you babe. Have my back, yeah, every day. Feels like home. Stay in bed the whole weekend. It’s nice to have a friend.”  
-Taylor Swift, It’s Nice To Have A Friend

The weeks began to pass in quick succession. Fewer students tread through the courtyards to brace the cold and so it became a fine place for Ember and Draco to take walks in the late afternoon. Draco was always paranoid and didn’t like the thought of people linking him and Ember together; it gave him debilitating anxiety. Where weeks ago she would have felt discouraged and ashamed, she finally understood that this was just how Draco was and it didn’t truly have anything to do with her.

And so, when the snow began to fall and stick to the ground it didn’t sway their evening strolls. The first fresh snow fall had left Hogwarts grounds in a dazzling layer of white and as they approached the courtyard Ember paused looking up at Draco puzzled.

“What?” He asked feeling tense for she usually didn’t have that look in her eye and scanned the area quickly.

“What is it?” She responded as she timidly took a step on the soft powder and out into the open air.

“What?” He asked, his turn to be confused, as she cautiously walked towards the frozen fountain, snow beginning to fall around her. “The white stuff?”

She nodded and he gazed at her perplexed for a moment, his hands stuffed in his front pockets. He furrowed his brows, “Em, it’s snow.”

“Snow.” She whispered the word as if needing to taste it, raising her hand to disrupt a falling flake.

He frowned, troubled. Sometimes when he spoke to her she would space out on a word and her eyes would slightly glaze while her mind drifted further from him as if detangling crossed wires. She would come back to him, confusion gone, as if waking up from a good dream, and continue their conversation as if they had never been interrupted.

Had she really never seen snow?

“Ember,” He called cautiously, curiously, not wanting to disturb her delightful observations.

She looked positively lovely there in the falling snow; her hair in long ringlets, face pale, eyes bright, and lips a deep dusty pink. A warmth spread through his chest as he watched her slowly twirl around in the snow.

“Where did you grow up?”

“Hmmm?” She responded softly as she cupped her hands in front of her face- his question needing time to sink in with all the distractions. She frowned as she stared back at him a moment before shrugging, “We moved a lot.”

Where? He thought. Where were you for all those years?

His frown deepened but he didn’t question her further, he had a sinking feeling that she might not even know herself.

A voice suddenly called across the courtyard, “What the bloody fucking hell are you two doing?”

Draco grimaced as the magical spell the snow had put Ember under broke and sighed before turning to see a grinning Blaise Zabini stride towards them.

“What’s it look like?” Draco scoffed, and quickly regretted it. The wolfish smirk that filled Zabini’s whole smug face caused all his relaxation to flee. “Don’t answer that.”

Ember had glided over to the two boys and greeted Blaise with a soft blush. “Hi Blaise.”

Draco’s scowl deepened. Those blushes were supposed to be reserved for him. He paled in horror at the thought.

Out of all his friends, Ember got along most with Zabini, because well Zabini was the only one with an ounce of actual substance to his person. That, and Blaise would be the only one to actually entertain her with a conversation on the rare occurrence that she would join him in the Great Hall at meal times.

It frustrated Draco for reasons he didn’t want to dwell on. She had been remarkably comfortable around Draco in the past weeks and he silently cherished the time spent with her. But Zabini comes around and she blushes like mad and retreats into her shell like a shy turtle. He didn’t like it.

“Ember,” Blaise greeted back giving her a grin. Draco clenched his teeth. “Enjoying the snow?”

“Yeah” Her eyes brightened while she instinctively scooted herself a little closer to Draco, “It’s wonderful.”

“You two coming for dinner?” Zabini asked, “Or are you going to keep frolicking out in the snow?”

“Not frolicking,” Draco quipped.

Blaise held his hands up in mock surrender.

Ember perked up as she saw someone behind the two boys and waved. Draco looked behind him curiously. Who the hell did she know?

He would have known that long blonde hair anywhere; it was the closets he had ever seen to his own hair color, besides his father. His hand shot out to capture her arm, as she tried to walk past him, causing her to turn around in shock, “Since when are you friendly with Looney Lovegood?”

She frowned up at him and slowly removed her arm from his grasp. “Her name is Luna.”

“Didn’t answer my question, Em.”

She pushed some of her snow covered, wind-swept hair out of her face and pursed her lips. “I met her in the hallway. She took me to a Quidditch match once.”

He felt hopes he didn’t even know he had shattered. He had selfishly wanted to be the one to have shown her the intense sport. It aggravated him that Luna Lovegood could cross her in a corridor and suddenly that fantasy was gone. 

“She’s gonna fill your pretty little head with ridiculous conspiracy theories.” Blaise chimed in as he adjusted his silver knit hat.

Ember stared between the two boys, her green eyes hardening slightly. She didn’t like how they were both being so offensively rude about the one person she had managed to befriend. “I need to get to Professor Snape, before I’m late.”

She nimbly turned on her heel and slowly walked back into the warmth to meet an serenely smiling Lovegood before disappearing around a corner.

Draco shook his head muttering a sardonic “Looney Lovegood,” under his breath. He didn’t really know what to do with the new information. He supposed if she was to befriend anyone, Lovegood was as good a choice as any. If Ember let anything slip and Luna wanted to spout off to anyone it could easily be written off as one of her ludicrous ideas. 

Zabini bumped his shoulder to claim his attention, “What’s going on between you two?”

Draco stiffened but tried to brush it off as a shiver from the snow, “What do you mean? We’re friends.”

Zabini looked at him incredulously, “You look at her like she hung the fucking moon.”

Draco stilled, his heart froze before jump starting into a sprint. 

Did he really?

He had other, much more important, things to think about other than his wife and how she was starting to burrow herself deep in the cracks of his soul. 

~

Her lessons with Snape had vastly improved. They had made headway with her patronus logic; so much so that if she focused hard enough she could consciously illuminate a thin layer of white light around her skin.

A patronus charm at its base was feeding off happiness, an emotion she regrettably didn’t have a lot of experience with. Snape had tried to explain that it had to be an incredibly happy memory she drew off of, but she had complained that it didn’t make sense in regards to her. She hadn’t been anywhere near happy when she encountered the pain inflicted by the Dark Lord. Snape agreed with her on that point, but was at a loss with any other way to proceed.

They had long discussions about the patronus charm. It’s history, how it’s traditionally cast, and its level of difficulty. She couldn’t fathom the type of happiness that was needed to form a corporeal patronus nor could she really understand what a corporeal patronus looked like. It was such old magic that wasn’t traditionally taught in wizarding school and therefore the poor excuse of a textbook was not truly helpful. The charm had more often than not been passed down from wizard to wizard who needed the protection. 

Her frustration had mounted so high one night at the difficulty that when Snape pushed her harder she snapped at him, “Why don’t you do it, huh?”

His eyes narrowed at her not appreciating the uncharacteristic sass and to her shock, stood up from his desk grasping his wand tightly. His wand flourished, “Expecto Patronum!”

As if the difficulty of the charm had all been a ruse, a burst of blue light shot out from his wand forming into a prancing doe. Ember shot up from her seat and swiveled on her toes to watch the fully corporeal patronus bound around the room. The beautiful doe cantered to a stop before disappearing like a waif of smoke.

She looked back to the quiet professor amazed. He sullenly lowered his wand, his broad shoulders curling into his body. His dark eyes were unfocused and somber as they stared at the spot the doe had just occupied. His usual bitter disposition was replaced with an agonizing wistful expression. 

The smile slipped from her lips. Those were the haunted eyes of a man who had loved and lost. She had never given much thought to the personal life of her mentor besides the fact that he was a Death Eater. His eyes met hers and his face returned to its impassive self. But she couldn’t shake the reminder that he was just a man who had a past she knew nothing about.

How funny that something that required the happiest memory one possessed would bring such solemn distress.

She didn’t ask for another demonstration.

Her frustration continued despite the progress she made. It discouraged her that she couldn’t achieve her full patronus through conscious effort alone. Her annoyance unsettled Snape because it was the only emotion she blatantly expressed. He had yet to tell her, and she had yet to realize, that he had breached her mind all those weeks ago during his torture. He had hoped that he would be able to understand how her ability worked if he saw the way her mind processed it. What he found in the depths of her mind horrified him. 

While the brain was always a complex thing to penetrate and make sense of, hers was altogether undecipherable. All the wires were crossed and coiled into a tight sphere and things that should have been clear were clouded with fog. He had never seen a mind so disjointed before. She should have been spouting nonsense and locked in a padded cell with a head like that. Though unsettling, he had come to a rough conclusion for why one’s mind would be such a calamity. It was so far-fetched; in fact, it was too far-fetched to conclude from a thirty second session of legilimency. He hadn’t invaded her mind again for fear of what he might find.

After the incident she had become much more confident around him. It surprised him how she seemed to respect his intention, and let the matter go all without an explanation. It probably helped that she had seemed to figure out her condition.

Ember let out an aggravated huff as she managed to extend her patronus away from her body in tiny pulsating wisps for only a moment before it fizzled back into darkness.  
“That’s excellent Miss Malfoy.” Snape commended.

She pouted, looking like she was about to stomp her foot on the ground, and threw her arms up, “But that’s not what I was trying to do!”

“Progress is progress. Don’t shun your own evolution.”

She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, her nostrils still flaring. “I think I’d like to try healing magic again.” 

They had agreed that Ember had healing properties in her abilities. All three times she had created her patronus she had managed to heal herself. Sometimes it took longer than others, but she always healed. It also seemed to be the underlying reason why she blocked the incurring curses when in her patronus state.

Snape had begrudgingly given her the most universal mediwizard handbook to study. He had always preferred to use potions rather than healing magic but couldn’t deny that she seemed to have a knack for it though her tender heart was going to be her hamartia for sure.

To correctly perform healing incantations, one has to have a living subject to preform said spells on. Professor Snape couldn’t acquire normal means of practice subjects without drawing unwanted attention so he had seized the small white bird from the seventh-floor corridor.

He would have to break its bones before Ember could successfully heal them. He knew she hated him for it, and once or twice she even drew tears, but she never complained about his methods. He had tried to explain that he was using a pain relief charm so that little to no pain would be felt by the creature, but she still managed tears.

Snape nodded and opened a side drawer from his desk, “Alright, but I’d like to try a different approach.”

“Which is?” She asked suspiciously, her arms crossing over her chest.

He brought out a thin knife and held it up for her inspection. “I’d like you to focus on healing your own body.”

She gulped. She knew where this was heading and couldn’t help but to think about the last time he had caused her pain to draw results. How Draco was concerned that he would resort to that method again.

“Healing yourself with your own magic is an extremely uncommon skill, one you seem to possess. I’d like to see what happens when you attempt it consciously on a much smaller scale without being motivated by fear.” He held out his hand casually, as if slicing his students was a common occurrence.

She understood his reasoning and even agreed that it would be a good experiment, that didn’t mean she was eagerly volunteering. She nodded her head and stepped forward drawing up her sleeve. She anxiously placed her arm in his hand fighting off a flinch.

He studied her eyes for a moment. Despite the suggestion, he really did not want to be responsible for another traumatic experience. He slowly took the sharp tip of the knife and pressed it down on her forearm with just enough pressure to draw a soft line of blood. She winced at the sting.

He withdrew the blade and waited. Her eyes set and determined, she flexed and un-flexed her arm; focusing on the small injury and focusing on the flare of pain. Blinding light illuminated the room and the sharp bite dulled before fading away altogether. Golden light spilled from the sliced skin and reversed the injury right before her eyes.

She grinned happily up at the Professor who only pursed his lips so that he wouldn’t smile at her great accomplishment. Hey, he had a reputation to keep.

~

When Saturday rolled around Ember was sad to wake up without a warm body pressed against her. She sleepily sat up and took in the space before she realized that Draco wasn’t even in the room.

After her trauma at the last bout of cruciatus curse they had grown more comfortable in their sleeping arrangements. Not that sharing a bed hadn’t been comfortable before, but since that night Draco had become a bit more forward and kept them in light embraces as they slept. It caused their bed to become a cocoon of safety and warmth, where soft embraces, lingering eyes, and hesitant fingers lived in silent secrecy. Ember blushed even thinking about it.

She frowned. Most Saturdays had become days when they caught up on reading or homework. On occasion, he would even take her to the Room of Hidden things where she would perch herself on one of the mismatched chairs and keep him company while he tried to repair a cabinet that just didn’t want to be repaired.

They never explicitly spoke about Draco’s tasks. It had become a silent topic, that both knew and understood, with a taboo slapped on to it. Draco was right when he said that the tasks were heavy and not something you could just bring up.

Draco clearly had other plans for this particular Saturday and instead of dwelling on it she counted it as a blessing. He had been in an especially bad mood the past few days. He was snippy, and grouchy, and not good company to keep. 

She could always tell when the stress was starting to get to him. His eyes would turn a shade lighter, he would continuously run his long fingers through his hair unconsciously, and his fingers would fidget with anything he could get his hands on, especially the bizarre looking gold coin he now always kept in his pocket. Sometimes there would be a few lighter days when he would laugh and joke with her and she saw the boy he had been before all of this happened. In those moments, she saw the boy who had all the confidence opportunity could buy, who had questionable morals, and never wanted for anything. Sure, she didn’t agree with his prejudices, nor his vocabulary, or even at times his methods, but she enjoyed the break from the angsty temperamental teenager.

Through the swift changes she could see the beginnings of a metamorphosis. She could see that be had become a subdued internal thinker; that he had become incredibly doubtful. When they were alone, he would unconsciously discredit the methods of the Death Eaters in burst of agitation and bitterly resent his position as a Malfoy. 

It happened especially when he let her help him with his homework. Draco was very smart, but he tended to ironically follow the rules of straight-forward logic. When she would suggest a counter-method of reaching the same conclusion he would stare at her with a look only years of thinking one-way could give. He didn’t quite know the meaning of thinking outside the box; as if he had been taught that only one river could reach a lake.

It couldn’t be pushed, it had to happen naturally, but she saw that he had begun to question things that he never knew could or needed to be questioned.

She had decided to seek out Luna. 

Though the girl was peculiar and quirky, she was incredibly welcoming. She had only managed to enjoy her company a few times but within those moments Ember knew that she had gained a friend. 

During her time at Hogwarts, in the library, the hallways, and even on occasion in the Great Hall, she had managed to hear snippets of conversations that involved her husband in a less than appealing light. 

She had feared about what Luna would think when she discovered that she was indeed rather close to the school tormenter, but Luna took it all in her peculiar stride. After the afternoon she caught Ember’s eye in the courtyard with Draco and Blaise, Ember had been waiting for an accusation. She should have known Luna better.

“So your friends with Draco?” Luna inquired as she walked beside her back up the castle. Ember let out a sigh of relief at hearing Luna address him as ‘Draco’ and not ‘Malfoy’ as most of the other students tended to.

“Um yeah, our parents were good friends. They helped me get my position with Professor Snape.”

“That’s interesting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh nothing, just that Draco has never paid much attention to anyone outside his group of friends that he deemed worthy. It’s surprising that he’s taken with you.” If it had been Pansy it would have sounded rude, but coming from Luna it just sounded like a well-known fact. 

Still, Ember had twitched nervously, “I’ve heard what students have said about Draco, you don’t mind that I’m friends with him?”

She shrugged her long flowing hair over her shoulder, “Why would I? I don’t know him personally.”

Her already high respect for Luna had sky-rocketed to new levels. She cringed when she remembered that Draco had called her ‘Looney’.

Luna liked to sit on the borders of things. Ember thought it was so she could feel included while not put under the spotlight and she found her sitting by herself in the library reading a book for pleasure.

Ember sat down opposite her unreservedly, knowing that she would always be welcomed when it came to the blonde. She looked around the bare library curiously and asked where all the students seemed to be.

“They’re at Hogsmeade,” Luna answered softly peering over her book.

“Oh.” Ember answered. She remembered hearing of the village that the older students were permitted to visit. She kind of hoped that Draco might take her for a visit, but she knew that it would probably draw too much attention and quickly abandoned the thought. She frowned when she realized there were probably a lot of things they would never be able to do together because it would draw too much attention.

“No apprentice work today?” Luna questioned, conversationally.

Ember shook her head, “No. He has too many second-year essays to grade.”

“You don’t have to help him grade them?”

Ember winced. Yes, if she was a normal apprentice she probably would have. Thinking quick she responded with, “Not on a Saturday.”

Luna hummed and returned back to her novel. The cover had a pile of gold with what seemed to be a niffler sitting gloriously on top. Ember always thought that dragons had been the ultimate treasure hoarders but she thought nifflers might just give a them a run for their money.

Luna must have seen her incompetence when it came to free time and nonchalantly pulled the recent edition of The Quibbler from her bag and slid it across the table for her.

After reading the bizarre piece of journalism that had more tidbits she didn’t understand than she did, her and Luna retired to the Great Hall for an early dinner and before she knew it she was back in the room she shared with Draco contemplating what time of year the great lake would unfreeze.

The door slowly opened a little while later. Draco walked into the room as if he had seen a ghost. His steps were soft as if he didn’t want any indication that he was in the world. He shut the door mechanically behind him and robotically began to take off his coat. He threw it over the back of the arm chair. His hands rested on the top of it as he hunched his shoulders over and took deep breaths.

Something was wrong. “Draco…” She whispered carefully.

He tensed and looked over to her, as if he hadn’t realized that she was in the room, sitting on the floor in front of the windowed wall. He just gazed at her wide doe eyes for a moment before his face collapsed into tears.

She hesitated. She had never seen him in tears and didn’t know how to approach him. He had always been her anchor, her constant since everything devolved into chaos, and it crushed her to see him so devastated. 

She scrambled up from the floor and crossed the room to him wrapping her arms around his torso. His arms immediately swung around her as he buried his face into her shoulder and let out a strangled sob.

With their height difference, he seemed to surround her. Ember’s eyes were wide as his body shook against her. She grasped at his back and soothed slow circles over his shirt. His tears soaked into her skin as his lips trembled in the place where her neck met her shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to,” He choked into her skin, tortured.

It broke her heart to see how broken he was. She couldn’t let herself consider what could have caused such a state. So, she did the only thing that she could do; 

She just held him tighter.


	16. The Fickleness of Hearts

“I know it hasn’t been your day all week, so put it all on me.”  
-Ed Sheeran, Ella Mai, Put it All on Me

Christmas was on its way. Once the students had had their final lessons, Professor Snape had relieved her of their own lessons until the return of term. Without them, Ember didn’t really know what she was expected to do.

She didn’t know if her and Draco were staying in the castle or going back to Malfoy manor, or, and she hated to think of it, if Draco would be going back to the manor without her. Though they were married the terms of their actual relations were ambiguous at best, and with everything that was going on she didn’t feel the need to push for clarification. She was satisfied with how things were.

Turns out she wouldn’t need to ask what she would be doing for the holidays, when an invitation arrived addressed to her. Draco had snatched it out of her hands, appalled, “He invited you to his Slug Club Christmas Party?!”

“His what?” She asked. She hadn’t heard anything of a Slug Club and while logically she assumed it was a shortening of Slughorn’s name and that it didn’t have anything to do with actual slugs.  
Draco huffed, flaring his nostrils, clearly annoyed. “Slughorn has, what is called by most of the public, a Slug Club. It’s made up of members that he deems talented and worthy of his mentorship.”

“And you wanted to be a member of this club?” She guessed with an arched brow.

“Well, yeah.” He said dumbly. “My father, and my grandfather, were a part of his club. I’m talented and worthy and have the fucking connections. Hell, even Zabini’s in his club. It’s only right that I should have been accepted.”

“But you weren’t.”

“Yeah I bloody well know that Ember.”

She fanned herself absently with the provoking invitation. “Is your pride directly linked to your legacy or does it take a detour somewhere around privilege?”

Draco gave her an exasperated look. If he hadn’t become so frustrated, he would have gaped at her uncharacteristically sassy delivery.

She sighed, “Are you jealous that he invited me and not you? I don’t have to attend. Honestly he’s a bit unnerving really.”

“No, you should go. Infiltrate it, see what they’re discussing. He wouldn’t suspect you.” She didn’t like the way he said infiltrating or the scheming look in his eye.

Ember looked at the invitation again, “It says that I could bring a date. It’s more of a party than an actual club meeting.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “No. He’s already been too suspicious of me, much less what everyone else would think. You’ll just have to go stag.”

“Stag?” She questioned.

“Means alone.”

Well then, that had been settled for her.

Or at least it was settled until Blaise caught wind of her invitation and exclaimed a happy, “We should go together!” at dinner that evening.

Draco wanted to bash his forehead on the table repeatedly.

Her face was on fire. The first boy to ever ask her out on a date and it was in front of her husband. She awkwardly pinched at her cardigan glancing at a positively irritated Draco. Does he want me to accept or decline? She fumbled for a response, thankful that Pansy wasn’t present to embarrass her further.

“Erm…sure Blaise, that would be nice.”

~

Draco hated it. His already beautiful wife was dressed in a very appealing royal blue dress that hugged snuggly to curves that were usually hidden. She was wearing a pair of black heals, that he didn’t even know she owned, that made her legs look like dripping sex. Her long hair, that she usually wore down, was in a high pony tail and showing off her slender neck. Dark mascaraed lashes framed her forest green eyes and her lips shimmered in a pink gloss. She looked stunning- and none of it was for him.

He was miserably leaning against one of the posts of the bed as she was slipping on a pair of silver stud earrings. She turned towards him, her dress swirling deliciously around her, and smiled up at him shyly. “It’s not too much, is it?”

His eyes drank her in. She was all dolled up, looking like the belle of the damn ball, and her fingers were still fidgeting at her sides. “Sweetheart, you look beautiful.”

His favorite shade of pink covered her cheeks as she gazed up at him with her gorgeous eyes as wide as saucers and- shit, were her pupils blown?

She bit her lip before remembering she had lip gloss on and murmured a coy, “Thank you.”

He regretfully led her next door to the Slytherin Common Room and regretted it immediately. They hadn’t made it three steps through the portrait hole before Crabbe and Goyle, as well as some lowly fourth years, goggled at Ember with no shame. 

“Holy shit!” Crabbe whistled as he sat on the edge of the sofa. Goyle elbowed him in the ribs while his own jaw was hung open.

Zabini, who was sitting on one of the couches in exquisite dress robes, looked over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin.

Ember shuffled slightly behind Draco at all the male attention and tried to distract herself with the decorations of the Slytherin Common Room. She had thought that their own room had been abundantly draped in green but it didn’t compare to this. It was simply doused in emerald green and silver. Green velvet sofas and mahogany tables littered the space with tapestries flowing majestically down the stone walls. The windows on the far wall showed the Black Lake just like the one next door. 

Blaise stood up from the couch and approached the couple who had yet to move further than the entry way. “Whoa Ember you look great,” He smiled handsomely.

Ember bowed her head to try and hide her blush and shifted on her feet nervously. Blaise extended his arm towards her and she accepted shooting a worried glance at Draco whose jaw was clenching dangerously.

“What are your plans for the evening lads?” Blaise asked good naturedly managing to hide the smirk that was threatening to overtake his entire face. He could see the well-concealed torment written all over Draco’s face and couldn’t help but tease the shit out of him with Ember’s arm in his.

“What’s it to you?” Draco stubbornly hissed as he ripped his eyes away from the nightmare unfolding and leaned against the back of the couch next to the two clowns.

“Well don’t get into too much trouble without us.” Blaise inclined his head towards them with a devilishly charming smile before turning and leading Ember back through the portrait hole. 

She glanced at Draco over her shoulder, desperately trying to communicate something to him through her eyes, but he was too slighted to care. They disappeared and a horrible wave of jealousy settled over his chest.

“Who knew mousy could clean up so well? Did you see her fucking legs in those fuck me heels-” Crabbe gushed, before Draco adroitly pushed him off the arm of the couch erupting laughter from Goyle.

He paid no mind to the grumbling buffoon and crossed his arms over his chest before restlessly nibbling on his finger nails.

It was entirely unfair. He should be at that party with her. Not suave Blaise who always managed to make her blush like a fool. A year ago he would have been the one to take her. He wouldn’t’ve let go of her hand the entire night as they chatted and mingled; all the while roasting Potter and Granger. He would have made her blush and laugh until she begged for mercy just so he could keep that sparkle in her eye. It would’ve been perfect, but no he was stuck with the unworthy.

Would Zabini make her blush until her face radiated heat? Would he charm her into dancing with him? Would he be able to get her talking as easily as she could with himself? Would he try to kiss her? 

The more he thought about what could be happening in that tower, the more he realized that he wasn’t going to just sit and take this disrespect. 

~

It probably wasn’t the greatest idea to have a party where a group of teenagers were expected to mingle like a charity gala. Pleasant music filled the background and clumps of well-dressed students stood on the edges of the decorated room. Slughorn himself, dressed in festive dress robes that showed his age, was looking for a new victim to converse with.

Blaise had been as charming as ever. He would lean down and whisper in her ear pointing out students to her that she didn’t know. Which was not a hard task. Ember got the impression that, like Draco, he didn’t venture out of the small social circle and have other friends. She wondered if it was a Slytherin thing or just a Death Eater adjacent thing. 

He had tried to entertain her throughout the night, but she feared that she was just too awkward to be good company. This was the first time she had ever been alone with him without Draco as a buffer and her nerves were forming knots in her stomach. She couldn’t even manage to keep eye contact with him for longer than a second. God, she was such a loser.

She came to this party because Draco wanted her to, but now that she was here she wished more than anything that she could be with him in their small room with a fire roaring and not all these prying eyes. Perhaps Draco’s paranoia had begun to rub off on her, but she felt eyes on her anytime she so much as blinked. She had caught Snape’s eye at the beginning of the night. He had shown no admittance of knowing her except for the fact that he arched a brow at Blaise being by her side.

Harry Potter and what she assumed was Hermione Granger also seemed to stare at her for a fair amount of the evening and she’d been doing so good avoiding the golden trio. Her palms became moist every time she looked up and saw a round pair of spectacles observing her so fiercely.

She was relieved when Blaise had left her to go get them drinks and Luna, who was surprisingly Harry’s date, came to talk with her. She was dressed in a tiered pink dress with a silver trim that gave her the silhouette of a Christmas tree. Her blonde hair was tied back with a silver ribbon and long star earrings dangled from her lobes; her blue eyes as vibrant as ever.

She always felt like her opinions were always on-call; like everyone could determine her worth based on her opinion of superficial things, but with Luna she could simply talk about the weather.  
“Have you tried the Christmas pudding? It’s delicious.” The blonde commented. 

“No I haven’t. Luna, did you come with Harry Potter?” She asked curiously.

She nodded with a gentle smile, twisting her hips from side to side; her pink dress shimmering, “Yeah. He’s a good friend to think to invite me. I do love a good party.”

“I didn’t realize you were friends with him.”

“Oh yes. We’ve been good friends since last year.” She leaned in with wide eyes, “I was at the Department of Mysteries with him.”

Ember’s own eyes went wide at the new information. She carelessly let her eyes look across the room to where Harry Potter stood with an anxious looking Hermione Granger. As if she had called his name, his green eyes met her and this time she didn’t pull her eyes away, until the shuffling of feet disrupted the calming ambience.

Everything stilled as the crowd parted in front of Slughorn, to reveal an ecstatic Filch dragging a sneering Draco by the scuff of his collar. 

Ember gaped at him her heart thundered in her chest. What was he thinking?

Filch stopped in the middle of the parted party and looked towards Slughorn. “I found this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. Claims he was invited to your party.”

“Okay, okay I was gate crashing, happy?” Draco sneered, rolling his eyes. 

His eyes found hers and all she could do was frown at him. He had been all out of sorts since she had received that invitation. He had pestered her continuously going on and on about how it would be a great opportunity to gather intel, about how it would be too suspicious for him to attend and then there he goes, ignoring his own advice. 

If only he had come with her, she thought forlornly. 

His eyes darkened as they flicked to over her shoulder and she felt Blaise return to her side. Her frown deepened and she awkwardly focused on the ground.

Her eyes returned to the incident when Snape drawled, “I’ll escort him out.” He glided towards the party crasher, causing Filch’s face to fall in disappointment. 

Draco’s face deadpanned in annoyance. He gave her one last look before relenting and dramatically shrugging off Filch’s hand and stomping back the way he came.

Snape glanced around the party with pursed lips, careful to avoid her eyes, and followed the aggressive teenager.

Ember almost took a step to follow them out, she knew the last thing that he wanted was to be alone with Snape, but Blaise casually bumped his shoulder with hers to bring her attention back to him. His chocolate eyes told her that he knew more than he was letting on, but she tried not to think about it. She gave him a half-hearted smile and brought the glass he offered her up to her lips to take a tentative sip.

~

Draco wanted this horrible day to be over as he stalked down the dark corridor. He could hear Snape’s footsteps following him, but he’d had enough embarrassment for the night. He only wistfully wished that Ember would be back in their room by the time he returned to help soothe this bad day away.

“What have you been thinking Draco?” Snape called as he descended upon him. “Did you hex Miss Bell?”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” Draco taunted, refusing to look at his long-time Professor and ignoring that squeezing he felt in his chest whenever he thought of the incident.

Snape, though, had had enough of his insolence. He roughly pushed Draco up against the wall of the empty corridor, fiercely pointing a long finger in his face. “You insolent little- ” He huffed out a frustrated sigh, lowering his voice. “I made an unbreakable vow. I swore to protect you.”

Draco paused just long enough to stare in indignation that his mother, for who else would have, had the nerve to strike up such a deal with him. He was even more annoyed that Snape had agreed. He knew how serious unbreakable vows were, he had his own.

“Well that was poor judgement huh?” His unbridled fury at the events leading up to tonight had been fueled into defensive confidence. He slapped Snape’s finger out of his face, “I don’t need your protection. I was chosen for this! Not you, me. I’m not going to fail him.” He claimed stubbornly.

Snape gave him a hard look, his nostrils flaring, “What about Ember? Do you realize the danger you could place her in with your impulsivity?”

Draco paused, avoiding his eyes in favor of looking down the corridor, angry at the fact that he was right.

Snape’s face softened as he whispered earnestly, “You’re afraid Draco. You try to conceal it but it’s obvious. If you would let me assist you…”

“What like how you assisted Ember?” Draco snapped dangerously. Ember might have seen the logic of the incident with Snape but Draco was the one that couldn’t un see her breakdown.

“You know that was necessa-” 

“I was chosen,” Draco cut him off with more composure than before, “This is my moment and I won’t have you, or her, or anyone try to steal it.” He broke away from Snape’s accusatory eyes and strode down the hall quickly. 

Snape sighed as he watched the boy disappear around the corner. He adjusted his robes and made back for the party.

Neither aware that a certain boy, with a certain scar, had heard the whole exchange.

~

She tried to pretend that nothing had happened. She plastered on a misleading smile and conversed politely with anyone who approached her and Blaise. She tried to forget the crazed and broken look in Draco’s eye but the knots in her stomach were now drenched in apprehension knowing that somewhere he was sulking. Her place was beside him, not clinking glasses with Blaise.

Blaise, sensing her gloomy mood, was about to call it a night and take Ember back to the dungeons when a deep voice from behind them caused him to jump, “Mr. Zabini,”

The pair turned to see Snape towering over them with his hands clasped behind his back. His eyes flicked between them analytically, “I’ll escort Ember. I need to have a moment with my apprentice.”

Blaise turned his almond eyes to Ember, trying to gauge if it was alright to leave her with their professor. She just gave him a fabricated smile and thanked him for a nice night. He nodded, took another glance at the professor, before turning on his heel and making his exit.

She looked up to Snape and let the exhaustion show on her face. He slightly nodded his head toward the side exit and she followed him, both unaware of watchful eyes.

Once he was sure they were away from straggling students, Snape twisted on his heel and crossed his arms over his chest looking down his nose at her. Ember grabbed onto the wall beside them and took the opportunity to take off the heels that had been pinching her toes all night.

“What has he told you?” Snape asked bluntly, tone cautious but graciously void of all hostility.

Her eyes plead with him as her chin began to tremble, “I promise; he doesn’t tell me anything!”

“I find that hard to believe with how close you two are.” He scoffed.

“We talk about other things,” She defended. “He doesn’t trust anyone; not you, or me; I doubt he even really trusts himself. I won’t invoke his wrath on me when he has no one else. Why do you keep asking me? I don’t work for you.”

Ember was a patient girl. She could take a lot before she cracked, but her frustration was boiling. Between forced small talk, Draco’s idiotic intrusion, and loosing blood circulation to her toes she was in no mood to be interrogated by Snape.

“No you don’t, but if he fails, if you fail…Ember, there is no coming back from that.”

Snape stared down at her imploringly before sensing her loyalty to Draco and realizing that he would get nothing else from her. He pursed his lips in disapproval and sighed through his nose. Ember, having worked so closely to him all these months, recognized that she was being dismissed and clasped her heels to her chest as she walked around him and into the darkly lit corridor.  
Too much tension had caused her head to throb. She could feel the skin on her forehead become irritated by either the make up or the stress. She knew tomorrow she would wake up with a horrible case of acne.

How had one invitation to a party created such a disastrous evening? She hadn’t even wanted to go and she hadn’t gained anything that Draco would consider intel. Just like she had told him, it wasn’t as if it was a How to Identify and Annihilate Death Eaters party. She rolled her eyes, to think he called her naïve. 

God, this boy. The first time he wasn’t picked as the best and he had nearly gotten himself thrown into detention with a gigantic temper tantrum and placed more suspicion on him than there already was. She didn’t want to know what she would be walking into tonight, and if her feet hadn’t hurt so much she might have taken a longer path towards the dungeons just to avoid him just little longer.

“Ember?” She heard from an unfamiliar voice call.

Stilling completely, the breath leaving her lungs, she slowly turned to face the only thing that could have made this dreadful night worse. Harry Potter stood watching her closely.

She took the time she had never given herself before to study the boy in front of her. He was only a little taller than her with dark brown curly hair and inquisitive eyes. His face was so utterly normal for a boy as famous as he was; the only noteworthy thing was his overtly-round glasses and the lightning bolt scar she knew hid underneath his bangs. 

He took a step towards her, and then another, until he was just close enough that she could see his green eyes that were not unlike her own. Beginning to feel like an animal being cornered, she backed herself away from his approach until she felt the coolness of the stone wall against her slightly exposed back. She gulped at his scrutinizing gaze.

Being alone with Blaise was one thing but being alone with Harry Potter was entirely another; and there was only one reason she could think of as to why he would want to speak with her.   
He opened his mouth, eyes puzzled by her reaction, “My name is Harry.”

“I know who you are,” She whispered, her voice trembling. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as her body ran on adrenaline alone.

She had whispered it as if it was treason and Harry had to take a step back at such an ironically timid statement. How did she manage to keep company with Malfoy if she cowering away from him? He had expected her to have the typical superiority complex that most Slytherin’s possessed. Luna had said that she was sweet, perhaps she was right.

“I heard you with Snape.” Harry took another calculating step towards her, “What is Draco up to?”

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She stammered unconvincingly.

“I know he is up to something. You don’t have to protect him.”

“He doesn’t need my protection,” Ember bit out resenting the whole situation. “If you had listened to our conversation you would know exactly what I told Snape; I don’t know anything! And why are you eavesdropping on other people’s conversations? I’ve heard a lot about you, but I didn’t take you for a coward.”

She tried to push around him but he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He had been trying all year to get her alone and question her, but she was always with Snape or Malfoy. He grabbed her bicep and forced her back into the wall. 

She was trapped and suffocating. She chocked on the anxiety, unwanted tears welling in her eyes as he leaned in, his hand squeezing her arm and anchoring her to the wall. “I also heard how Snape doesn’t believe it, and neither do I. I don’t trust you. You randomly come to Hogwarts this year under the guise of being Snape’s apprentice. There’s never been such an apprentice at Hogwarts, so why did the Headmaster grant you such a position?”

“Let me go!” Ember cried, feeling the dark walls close in on her as she viciously tried to claw his fingers from her arm. It only caused Harry’s grip to tighten. “The only time anyone ever sees you, you’re either with Snape or Malfoy. Suspicious is as suspicious does. You seem timid and flighty which makes this all the more suspicious. What do you know?”

“Please! I really don’t know anything! I barely know Draco! He doesn’t tell me anything! To him I’m just this naïve little girl that follows him around and is a waste of his time. Now please just let me go!” She implored desperately.

Abruptly, Harry pulled his arm back feeling as if he had been shocked. She took the opportunity to push past him and dash through the corridor and down a flight of stairs.  
She sprinted hastily and in the darkness of the corridors, with the uneven surface of the thousand-year-old cobble stones, her bare toe caught on the edge of stone and she tumbled down to the ground.

She shivered, letting a few tears fall, and waited a moment, prepared to hear footsteps behind her. When a moment passed and she heard nothing, she slowly sat herself up on her, now bleeding, knees. She took a few deep breaths to calm herself.

She couldn’t go back to Draco this shaken up. He didn’t need his already paranoid brain to have another thing to obsess over. Harry didn’t know anything that he didn’t already know before because she didn’t hadn’t told him anything. Sniveling, she gingerly got back up to her feet. She just wanted this night to end.

But as she opened the door to their room she realized that the night might have only just begun.

Draco was pacing. He looked as lethal as a panther with his shoulders hunched over, his black dress shirt half un-buttoned, his hair a straight up mess. He was muttering to himself, twirling his wand in one hand.

His head snapped to hers when he heard the door click behind her.

“Where have you been?! You should’ve been back here over an hour ago!” He quickly strode over to her, searching her eyes. “What did Blaise do? I swear I’ll throw him into the damn lake.”  
She scrunched her face in confusion. Blaise? It felt like hours since she last saw Blaise. “Blaise didn’t do anything,” She told him.

“Blaise didn’t do anything,” He mocked. “I’ve seen how you are with him. Don’t tell me nothing happened.”

“What are you on about?”

“About how you and Blaise have this thing going on behind my back!” He shouted gesturing wildly. 

Was he jealous?

She sighed clenching her fingers around her shoes with one hand and pinching the bridge of her nose with the other. “Draco. Tonight, was the first time I’ve ever been alone with Blaise without you. Why would you assume something so ridiculous?”

“Don’t turn this on me,” He seethed. “You’re always blushing when he comes around, don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“I’m like that with any boy!” She exasperatedly defended.

“Not with me!”

A moment passed. Her eyes softened over his huffing figure. He really didn’t get it, did he?

“I don’t think you understand,” She shook her head softly. “I’m not comfortable around boys. I’ve never interacted with them until we got here.”

His brows furrowed together. “What do you mean?” His voice was no less harsh, but there was an ounce of confusion. 

“I went to an all-girl school. I quite literally never talked with a boy until I came to the manor this summer and met you.”

Draco faltered. What the fuck? 

How did she never encounter a boy? That had to be a lie, right? But as he thought on it, things started to make more sense. How she had been a skittish deer when she first arrived at the manor, how she had flinched when he first touched her, how she blushed every other second that first month.

Was it really that she wasn’t like that with him anymore because she was comfortable around him? A warmth sliced through his anger, letting him really look at her for the first time since she walked through the door. She looked like she hadn’t had a great evening either.

“Then where the have you been?” He asked much softer than before.

Somewhere inside of her, a rebellious teenager wanted to scream at him that he wasn’t her keeper, but that wasn’t fair, it was late and she really should have been back a while ago.   
“Snape wanted to speak with me,” She whispered. She didn’t want to bring up Harry when he was already this upset.

Draco scowled. Of course, Snape would go to her after speaking with him. Ember walked passed him with a sigh and threw her heels to the floor as she reached for the tie that held up her hair. It fell down her back and she brushed her fingers through it massaging her scalp. He was just calming down when her arm revealed that she was keeping secret.

“Ember,” His voice had dropped two octaves and when she turned his eyes were murderous. What have I done now? “Who touched you?”

Her brows scrunched together in confusion. What was he on about? She couldn’t keep up with his mood swings. The throbbing of her head didn’t help matters much either. There was no way he could have known about her encounter with Harry.

Seeing her confusion, he walked to her and gently pulled her arm out for inspection. She looked down to see five small bruises blossoming over her milky skin in the shape of finger prints, exactly where Harry had gripped her. She gazed up at Draco and gulped. 

“Who did this to you?” He whispered, ghosting his own fingers over the discolored skin.

“I-he-we,” Ember stammered, gesturing aimlessly.

“Who?” Draco demanded.

She grimaced, “Harry Potter.”

He dropped her arm in shock. Fucking Potter? Seriously? That little fucker! Well, tonight was as good a night as any to kill the fucking celebrity. Or better yet, just drag him out for Voldemort! That would get him some bonus points for sure.

He clenched his jaw, “I’m going to kill him.” 

He had already turned and was heading for the door by the time Ember processed the words. She quickly caught up to him and yanked at his arm squeaking, “Don’t!”

He rapidly spun around, causing her to slam into his chest before scrambling back to see his face. He looked down at her with icy fire, “No one gets to do that. Least of all fucking Potter.” He spat.

She tugged on his arm again. He’d never been so explosive before, so unpredictable. “Draco you can’t! He questioned me tonight, he overheard me speaking with Snape.”

That caused Draco’s attention to shift. “What do you mean he questioned you tonight? What about?”

“Well, you” She said it as if it had been obvious, “and why I’m here. He thinks I’m suspicious and he knows that you’re up to something.” 

Draco went slack. He pulled away from her before glaring up to the ceiling. He could have heard anything. Shit! He could have heard Snape talking to me! He shoved his hands into his hair and yanked, hard. He screamed in frustration causing Ember to jump. “I didn’t tell him what!” She swore.

It wasn’t the fact that Potter found him suspicious, that was very old news, it was the fact that he had the nerve to approach her in the first place that caused Draco to want to tear everything in the room to shreds. Couldn’t everyone just leave her alone? Why did everyone go through her to get to him?! 

“I swear I didn’t!” She implored, tears filling her eyes. “Please Draco! You have to believe me! He cornered me and when I tried to leave he grabbed my arm, but I didn’t say anything!”

Draco paused in his self-abuse. Ember was rambling, and she only ever rambled when she was on the verge of a panic attack. He felt his anger jump to the back burner. He held his hands up as he approached her again.

“I swear! I wouldn’t do that! I couldn’t! Draco please, please believe me! I could never betray you like that! Ever! I just couldn’t,” Draco slowly wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back as she continued to plead with him.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” He hushed. “That’s not why I’m mad. Potter should never have approached you, and he definitely should never have touched you.”

She sniffled as she nodded her head against his chest, relieved. She let him hold her for a few minutes while she calmed her breathing down to the beat of his heart before she broke the embrace to see his face.

He cupped her face and brushed away her drying tears. She grasped at his wrists, “Why did you crash the party?”

He pursed his lips, avoiding her eyes, and tried to think of a reasonable excuse.

“You should have just come with me,” She whispered.

He dropped his hands, easily breaking her hold, and shook his head, “It would have been too suspicious.”

“It’s even more suspicious now!” She shouted, and that’s how he knew Ember had had enough for tonight. She had never shouted at him- ever. Her voice resonated throughout the room and he guilty gazed at the floor, knowing that she spoke the truth. What he had done tonight only made him more suspecting.

She sighed tiredly and clasped his hands in hers, “I wish you would have just come with me. Actually, I wish we could have just stayed here. That party was nothing productive.”

Draco chuckled humorlessly. That was an understatement. Even he knew by the few moments he spent there that there hadn’t been a discussion he needed to hear, except for maybe what she and Zabini had blabbered to each other.

She squeezed his hands tighter giving him an exhausted smile, “Now can we please just go to sleep and let this be the end of this horrid day?”


	17. Custom-made Baggage

“You say you’re broken, beaten, used, and mistreated. Tired, shattered, bruised, and battered. The only thing I’m really sure of is, I’m unsure of most everything.”  
-The Maine, I Only Wanna Talk to You

Draco had come back from an awkward breakfast with Blaise to find Ember gone.

He vaguely wondered where she could have gone to, but didn’t dwell on it as he sank into the arm chair and tossed his feet on top of the coffee table. The open letter in his fingers froze his hand as possibilities ran amuck in his head.

His mother wanted them home for Christmas. His father was going to be home and the Death Eaters had just vacated the manor for at least a week. Draco has assumed that they would be staying at Hogwarts over the holidays. With everything going on it seemed the safest option, not to mention he wasn’t in the most cheerful of moods. 

He ran his hand through his hair idly as he groaned at the unwanted predicament. Staying here meant he had more time to focus on the cabinets, but with less student activity it would be easier to get caught. Going home meant that the Dark Lord could show up at any moment and interrogate him, push Ember around like his little play thing, and add just another traumatic experience to the already piling mountain. He looked down at the mark on his arm. He supposed that Voldemort could still manage to summon him, them, over the break, but it seemed less likely due to the guarding of the castle.

Or perhaps his mother wanted them home to avoid a scuffle all together, she had always been a peace maker with an eerily adept intuition.

He was so deep in possibilities that he didn’t even hear Ember enter the room until she placed a hand on his arm. “What is that?” She asked cautiously, eyeing the letter in his hands.

“Mother wrote. She wants us home for Christmas…”

Ember let out a little, “Oh,” and sat down on the top of the coffee table next to his feet.

He continued to comb a hand through his loose hair and arched a brow, “Oh?” He questioned. He hadn’t expected her to react so dejectedly.

“When are you leaving?” She asked, deciding to pick at his shoe laces rather than meet his eyes.

His eyes puzzled further. After everything they’d been through did she think he would just leave her behind? He spent so much time around her that it was as if she had become an attached limb. Being away from her for longer than the majority of the day just wouldn’t do, not at all. “Em, don’t you mean when are we leaving?”

He expected her eyes to brighten but they only stayed dull. “I don’t expect you to want me to come with you. We’re together all the time, and I understand that you would want to spend some time alone with your family.”

“Em,” He implored, nudging her hip with his foot, “Em. You are family.” Her eyes flitted up to his with a strange look of hope lit in them. “You’re a Malfoy, and with that comes its own custom-made, entirely revolting, baggage. Only seems fair that you should be there for the good times, however few there might be.”

She smiled at him, just a faint dusting of pink coloring her cheeks.

He sighed and rested his elbows on the arm rests, fiddling with the letter. “I’m not sure we should go though, what do you think?”

Her eyes puzzled, “That’s your decision.”

“Em. I just asked for your opinion, didn’t I? This will affect both of us. If we go, there is a good chance we’ll have another… encounter.”

“Is it really all that impossible that we couldn’t be summoned from here?”

Draco smiled; they thought the same way. He shrugged, resting his jaw in his hand, “We, well really I, could but we could be summoned at any time for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, then we should go. There’s no real reason to disappoint your mother, Draco. Maybe it will be a good distraction as well.”

She stood up and moved swiftly to where they stored their trunks, resting her hands on her hips, wondering if they should take both or perhaps just share one. 

He grinned at her, drumming his fingers against his cheek, and watched her begin to pack. She really did make for a good wife.

~

Narcissa was beside herself when her boy stepped into the sitting room. She quickly got up from where she had sat waiting, for the better part of an hour, and wrapped her arms around him tightly. 

“Alright, yes, hello mother,” Draco placated, wrapping his own arms around her. Like all teenage boys, he feigned embarrassment, but secretly had needed to feel the safety only a mother can give and sunk into her embrace.

His mother hiccupped a quick, “Oh!” and she let him go only to move behind him to throw her arms around Ember equally as tight.

Draco grinned at the sight. Ember’s eyes widened and she looked at him over the woman’s shoulder baffled, having not expected the display of affection. He was so glad that his mother loved Ember as if she was her own. 

He felt a pat on his shoulder and he turned to see his father giving him a rare warm smile in greeting. “Hello father.”

His father had never been one to show affection of any kind, so Draco took the fact that he greeted him with a smile as a sign that, yes, his father did miss him.

Lucius’s eyes drifted from his to Ember, who had finally managed to break from Narcissa’s embrace, and he offered her a smile as well, “Hello Ember.”

“Hello Sir,” She replied timidly, “Thank you for accepting me back into your home.”

Lucius waved a hand, “Darling your family.” 

And there it was. She had never felt that she was a true Malfoy until that moment and in the depths of her mind she knew that her own parents had never been as welcoming as this.

“Come in, Come in! I’ve just had Gunnora put on the kettle” Narcissa urged.

Draco offered Ember his hand with a quirk of his lip. She gave him a smile as she laced their fingers together. Neither noticed that Lucius hadn’t left the room and was very interested in the interaction. 

~ 

They spent the evening having a lovely meal, careful to avoid any subjects that would trek into uncomfortable topics. It was easily the greatest, most normal, dinner Ember had ever had with them.

Draco sighed easily as the comfort of home wafted over him and soothed his tired limbs. He always felt the need to be alert at the castle, always on patrol for anyone that would deem him suspicious, for anyone that was paying a little too close attention to him. But here, in his own home, he could relax and not have to worry about what everyone thought. Everyone here knew who he was, and what he was doing, and didn’t bat an eye. It was entirely refreshing and gave him the opportunity to clear his mind and think more clearly than the past few months.

Here he could just be a teenager who had brought his girlfriend home for the holidays.

Oh, fuck.

When had he started thinking of Ember as his girlfriend? Shit, he internally groaned, this was so fucked up. She was his wife and he was debating if she was emotionally his girlfriend. Such a fucking mess. 

He knew without a doubt that she was his best friend. Crabbe, Goyle, hell even Blaise didn’t have anything on her. She was always there to listen to him without a twinge of judgement or unwanted opinions. She never teased, she never hovered; she made sure he was okay in a time when he was rarely ever okay. She allowed him the space to destress and unwind after a frustrating day without having to do it alone. 

But was she more than that?

He found her attractive. She was all dark curls, pink blushes, and long legs. Her forest green eyes kindled a warmth in him that stemmed from deep in his belly and spread through him like toasted marshmallows. The way she composed herself so simply, so gracefully, without giving it a second thought. Something about the innocence that surrounded her aura, the way he could say one thing and cause her to blush profusely, thrilled him. How she always smelt of lavender, and clean linen, and home. 

She was a constant he couldn’t imagine living without. And admitting it, even if only in his own mind, was terrifying. He couldn’t have these feelings; he didn’t have the time to be worried about something so trivial. 

Her sitting here with the twinkling of Christmas lights reflecting in her eyes and smiling with his mother as she retold the story of how he had flown off his broom into a bush of her dahlias when he was twelve meant everything to him, even if she laughed at his expense.

He wondered idly how Ember had spent her past Christmases. If she had ever had the pleasure of stuffing her face with roast turkey and Christmas cake, or lounging by the fire and listening to Christmas carols or if she had spent those alone too.

She didn’t speak about her parents very often. He never pressured her to. Since her father had died, they hadn’t heard a word about her mother, whether she was dead or alive; and Ember had never even asked about her. Every now and then she would explain an event that happened before he knew her but it was always disjointed, like she was deliberately leaving pieces out, and she was always alone; Birthdays, Halloweens, why would her Christmases have ever been any different?

At least he could give her this; a normal family Christmas.

His mother had given her a pearl bracelet that had been in the family for generations. Ember’s eyes lit up like with delight and her fingers trembled with enthusiasm as she clasped it over her right wrist and admired it fondly. He couldn’t remember her ever wearing any jewelry and made a mental note of her joy over the bracelet.

His parents had gifted him a simple platinum set of cufflinks that would look incredibly stylish with his black suits. He wasn’t expecting anything for Christmas, especially after he hand nearly thrown a tantrum when his mother gifted him his silver watch for his last birthday. Gifts seemed so frivolous with everything that was going on around them.

His father had retired for the evening early, causing Narcissa to mildly be put out. Draco’s cup of coffee had just been refilled when his mother sat down next to him on the long couch with a leather album in her hands. He shifted slightly and patted his other side for Ember to join him.

“I should have shown these to you before left…” His mother started, as Ember clambered from the place on the floor, where she had been resting against his legs, to slot next to him.

Narcissa placed the album on Draco’s lap before opening up to a specific page a third of the way into the book. He felt Ember stiffen next to him as he gazed down at the faded moving pictures.  
The first one was of a toddler Draco, no more than two years old, already having a mop of bleached blonde hair falling into his bright blue eyes, looking over a basinet on the tip of his toes. Inside laid a small baby girl with big green eyes and small pink lips; an Ember that could only have been a few weeks old. In the picture, he bounced on his toes, hands reaching into the basinet, her eyes were calmly blinking up at him as the picture moved back and forth over the moment. 

The second picture was taken a few years later. A five-year-old Draco was sat in front of a three-year-old Ember on the floor of the manor’s foyer. Her hair was curled at her shoulders, a few shades lighter than the current Ember. Draco’s own hair was already sleeked back on the edges. In the picture, Ember smiled a wide smile, revealing a few teeth, as Draco showed her the flying Quidditch captain action figure he had just gotten for his fifth birthday. She clapped in amusement as the player realistically flew around the two of them. 

The last picture was from the same day. Draco was sitting on the old green couch they had kept in the sitting room when he had been a child and in his lap sat a tired looking Ember. Her eyes blinked drowsily as her head leaned back against his shoulder. He was looking off into the distance as if someone had been telling a story, his arms wrapped around her middle as if she was a stuffy to cuddle with.

“Ember, your parents brought you here just a few days after Draco’s second Birthday. We were all so happy to hear about your birth and it only seemed right to meet you. You were such a good baby, you didn’t cry once the whole afternoon. 

“The next time the Knight’s visited, the two of you were inseparable. Of course, you both were older that time. Draco was terrified that he was going to break you. He hadn’t seen many other children at that age. I think he was jealous the first hour but he warmed up to you all the same.” She smiled fondly down at the pictures before sighing. “The two of you were supposed to grow up together. We were supposed to have had these visits once a year. This was a few years after the Dark Lord’s downfall. It was also the first time serious implications of him returning were circling in our inner circle. It was the last we saw of the Knight’s until they dropped you off this past summer.”

A heavy silence fell over the room as the couple took in the photos and Narcissa’s words. Draco hadn’t seen this album in years and in truth forgot the pictures had even existed. He hadn’t truly forgotten the day though; she had been so bright and bubbly back then, so easily entertained. 

Ember’s fingers brushed over the edge of the last photograph. “I’ve never seen pictures of myself.” She whispered. 

~

Severus arrived at the manor at half past eleven the day after Christmas. His invite from Lucius has been sudden but not all together unwelcomed. Lucius obviously wished to know what Draco had been up to, and though Severus had very little to offer him, he had been wanting to divulge and discuss some information that he had gathered about Ember.

Lucius welcomed him warmly enough into the parlor and offered him a glass of what looked like a fancy brand of brandy before taking a seat and motioning for Severus to do the same.  
“How is he doing?” He asked, skipping to the point as to why he invited his longtime colleague.

Severus swirled the amber liquid around in the pristine glass before sighing. “Hard to say. They boy won’t include me in anything. Has a stubborn notion that he has to do it on his own,” He explained with a pointed look at his acquaintance.

“Smart boy. Still,” Lucius brow rose as his head tilted to the side, “I had hoped you would provide some insight. He won’t discuss it with me either.”

Severus nodded. “I actually came in regards to Ember.”

“Ember? You think he is divulging information to her? You think he is letting her help?” 

“Well no, she hasn’t given me any reason to believe that he is speaking to her about the tasks other than the fact that he told her what they were.”

“Then why have you come on behalf of her?”

“I have a hunch.”

“A hunch?” Lucius gave Severus his best unimpressed gaze; his eyes daringly demanding a good excuse.

Severus took a deep breath, “I think she’s been tampered with.” Lucius’s eyes narrowed perceptibly. “Since I’ve been working with her closely I’ve noticed that it is remarkably easy for her to space out over the littlest things. A word here, an object there. It’s like she doesn’t know certain things exist. It’s a small occurrence but nonetheless it is noticeable.”

“So the girls a little forgetful, and you’ve brought this to my attention because?” Lucius shrugged and downed the rest of his glass.

“I fear its more serious than that, and I think it stems from Blaine.”

“Blaine?” He asked, even more doubtful, “What could Blaine have done?”

Lucius fluidly stood up and moved back to the bar, reaching for the decanter that was left on the edge. 

“I believe that Blaine obliviated her.”

He paused, having just removed the stopper, before demanding an explanation, “Severus, please, why would he have done that? She could just have a shit memory.”

Severus shook his head. “She’s smart. Incredibly smart, she can remember every ingredient and step to Veritaserum from memory alone, which makes this all the more disconcerting. Blaine was extremely gifted in charms, wasn’t he?”

Lucius sighed, placing the decanter down and dragged his unamused eyes to his guest. “He was. Best man at charms that I ever knew, was one of the reasons Voldemort recruited him. Why would he have altered his daughter’s memories?”

Severus lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug, “Your guess is as good as mine. They were on the run for years, weren’t they? No one knew where they were.”

“We’d hear from them from time to time, but yes for the most part they all but vanished.”

“I would bet you anything that Ember doesn’t know either.”

Lucius waved his hand, “She was away at some school.”

Severus leaned forward, “But was she really?” He paused before placing his untouched brandy on the coffee table. “Perhaps Blaine was hiding something. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Lucius dragged his tongue across his bottom lip as he nodded his head and chuckled darkly. He could clearly remember the night his once greatest friend came barreling into this very room begging for help after disobeying the Dark Lord. 

“Alright, let’s say he did obliviate her,” He shrugged and finally refilled his waiting glass before re-stopping the decanter, “this is cause for concern?”

“It is if he did it multiple times. Memory charms are difficult because the mind is so complex. It’s not natural to go in and alter things. The more memories that are erased or altered the more likely for the subject to go insane.”

Lucius, who had just taken a gulp of brandy, spluttered, “You think she’s going insane?”

“No.” Severus punctuated the word with an incredulous look. “She doesn’t know what’s going on, or rather she hasn’t caught on to what is happening yet. Due to her abilities, I think her mind is trying to heal itself.”

“Well then good, problem solved.” Lucius gestured airily and sunk back into his chair, crossing one leg over the other.

“What happens when your daughter-in-law discovers that possibly her entire life, her memories, her personality, her opinions are all but gone because her father erased them? What happens when she starts to realize what’s going on, because believe me she will, and suddenly can’t distinguish what memory is real and what memory is false? That is what will drive her to insanity, Lucius. And more than that what happens to Draco if that happens?”

Lucius clicked his tongue. “He is rather fond of the girl, isn’t he?”

“Unusual circumstances have seemed to cement them together. You couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome. She is entirely loyal to him.” He paused, “And what happens to that loyalty when she takes a deeper look into her subconscious?”

Lucius pursed his lips, if what Severus was saying was true then it had the possibility of becoming a much bigger problem. “So what can we do?”

“I believe Draco should know, so that between he and I watching her we can gather a sense of where her mind is and can intervene if it’s seems to be going south. I have no doubt that he has noticed some of the same peculiarities I have. If we don’t tell him he’s liable to catalyst the situation without ever knowing there was a situation to catalyst.”

He squinted, “And you can’t tell him because?”

“He won’t listen to me. He’ll possibly think I’m trying to divert his attention or some codswallop, but he would listen to you.”

Lucius, entirely done with this strange turn of conversation, announced; “Fine, then it will be done.”

The room grew quiet as Severus finally picked his waiting glass back up and took a long swig.

“Ember…she is proving useful, isn’t she?” Lucius whispered, peering over his own glass. 

Severus could easily tell that he was trying to cover and over-interest he might have in the girl. “She’s come a long way. I think she would be able to grasp it faster if her mind wasn’t such a mess. I used legilimency on her, for educational purposes of course, and her mind is alarming. Everything is weaved so tightly and then there are just… gaps. It’s all patch work. I’ve never seen a mind like it; honestly I don’t see how she can manage to function.”

“That’s a real shame. You think our lord will be pleased?”

Severus rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his glass. “When is he ever actually pleased?”

~

It was late in the night when Draco declared that he wanted to teach Ember Wizards’ Chess. Her face puzzled in the way that told Draco that she wasn’t even aware of muggle chess and he took the affront personally and demanded that they rectify the situation immediately. Even if immediately happened to be two in the morning.

The two of them had sneakily snuck down stairs and into his father’s parlor. Ember pushed the coffee table aside as Draco set up the board and pieces on the floor between them.

After a quick run-down of pieces, strategies, and basic rules he led them into a practice game. She flinched when his bishop captured one of her pawns, obliterating the piece- spraying small chunks of silver across the board. Draco laughed at the deeply concerned expression she shot his way.

He was impressed as she held her own throughout the game before eventually mistaking her King for her Queen; allowing him to checkmate her. She huffed with an adorable scowl and demanded a redo. He never figured she would be the competitive type.

Two games later and she had him on the run trying to regroup his troops. Three moves later, she had won and smiled proudly at a Draco that couldn’t even pretend to be upset about it.  
“Let’s make this more interesting, shall we?” He asked rhetorically, standing up from the part of the rug they had claimed and stealthily moving behind his father’s wet bar.  
Ember wondered what he had up his sleeve when he returned with two crystal glasses and a bottle of golden liquid.

“What is that?” She asked curiously as he poured her a glass and handed it to her before beginning to pour his own.

“This, sweetheart, is Firewhiskey.”

She accepted the glass but looked at him expectantly for an elaboration.

“It alcohol.” He explained further.

“But we’re not allowed to have alcohol.” She stated it as if it was obvious even as Draco finished pouring and placed the temporary stopper back on the bottle.

He took a swig from his glass and hissed slightly at the delicious burn. “We’re also not supposed to be married and plotting murder, now are we?” He laughed as her scowl deepened. “We’re just having a little fun. Trust me a little, would you?”

She pursed her lips before giving the glass a sniff, her nose wrinkling at the strong chemical scent.

Draco watched intently as she finally raised the glass to her lips and took a tentative sip. Her entire face scrunched up in disgust and she spluttered letting her tongue hang out of her mouth.

Draco let out a fully belly laugh.

Ember, trying to regain her composure, offered her glass back towards Draco with an abrupt shake of her head.

He pushed the glass back to her. “No, give it another try. Haven’t you ever heard that alcohol is an acquired taste?”

He could have sworn he heard her mumble, “you’re an acquired taste,” childishly before taking another sip; face still scrunched. He chuckled and took another pull from his own glass before setting it down and re-setting the board for another game.

Ember loosened up soon enough, and even let him pour her another glass after she finished the first. She was glaring intently at the bored, one hand hovering over the remaining pieces and the other curled up under her chin, elbow propped up on her knee. 

Draco, who was laying on his side and resting on his elbow, sighed, “Please do take all night, I think the suns just about to rise.”

She glared at him, unamused, before finally moving her rook.

Draco grinned at her, before sitting up, downing the remainder of his glass and check-mated her once more, “Check mate.”

Ember slammed her hands on her knees and growled. “You’re cheating!”

Draco shook his head, cackling. She looked so damn adorable all riled up.

“Or you didn’t tell me all the rules! You’re just trying to inflate your own ego!” She crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly.

Draco shook his head, “I don’t need to handicap you to win. I win because I have more experience.” His lips quirked, “Or maybe I’m just smarter than you.”

“You are not,” She grumbled. 

Draco shrugged and downed the rest of his glass, the pleasant elated feeling filling his belly with warmth. 

Ember sighed and stretched her arms high above her head, letting her fingers wiggle in the air a moment. Draco poured himself another glass. 

“This is nice,” Ember whispered when the laughter died down. “Just two kids playing a game and getting drunk off stolen Firewhiskey.” She paused, “I wish it could be like this always.”

Draco pursed his lips and set his glass down before moving closer to her. “I do too. When school is over, we can do this every night. Maybe I can even convince you to play exploding snap.”

She looked into his storm-less grey eyes. It was so easy to fall into that fantasy, in a world where nothing was expected of them. “Maybe,” She conceded, not wanting to logically disintegrate such a nice idea.

He wasn’t sure what pushed him to do it. Was it the way that her face was illuminated by the fireplace like a halo? Or the way that her eyes gazed up at him beneath her long eye lashes? The way her lips parted before her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip, which he suddenly needed to taste? Or perhaps it was the Firewhiskey that dulled all senses until he was consumed in nothing but her.

He leaned in slowly, hoping beyond all hope that she wouldn’t pull back from him. Her green eyes flickered down to his lips before shooting back up to his eyes; so open and innocent. He finally closed all distance between them and pressed his lips softly to hers in a gentle timid, barely there, brushing of lips.

He pulled back to look in her eyes prepared for the blush to paint her already pink cheeks, but her cheeks remained steady. Her lips stayed parted and her eyes didn’t shy away from him, rather they asked him why he pulled away in the first place. 

Glass forgotten, he brought up his hand to brush across her cheek before grabbing the back of her neck and bringing her lips back to his own. This time it was demanding and bruising as if he had never tasted something quite so pure and oh so sweet. He could drown in her. Her lips pressed into his hesitantly at first before she became confident and matched his urgency. His world span with nothing but the thought of the girl in front of him. Ember, Ember, Ember. 

He kissed her like he had been a man lost to the desert for years before finally finding an overwhelming oasis. She was warm and soft and delicious and- oh god, did she just moan? He groaned at the tiny and needy sound from the very back of her throat. 

She finally pulled back just a little, but it was enough to make his lips chase hers before settling for leaning his forehead against hers. He felt light headed in a way that had nothing to do with the booze.

He looked to her eyes only to realize that they were still closed. Her breaths came out in little puffs and he reached forward stealing her bottom lip between his, causing a little squeal to sound from her. Merlin, the sounds she made! 

She eagerly leaned towards him and raised her own hand to cup his cheek. Had anyone ever touched him like that? Skin so smooth, even on the pad of her fingers, but hands so sure as she brushed her thumb across his cheek bone in a gentle caress. She tasted like fresh lemons, and firewhiskey, and freedom.

His head dizzy with senses, he broke the kiss but made no move to part from her pleasing touch. A dreamy look crossing her face before sighing, “Draco…”

He brushed a stray hair away from her face pleased by the tilt of her lips in a smile he had never seen before. It was small, with her teeth only poking out slightly, and non-concealed; as if it was just for him.

Her eyes stayed closed as she continued to lean in close to him. Reconnecting their foreheads, her thumbs never pausing as they stroked across his skin. Her breathing began to even out and he realized that with all the chess and alcohol and kissing she was beginning to drift off into sleep right there while touching his skin and breathing him in. 

He grasped her hand that was against his face and leaned in for a quick peck before pulling away from her completely. She straightened her back at the loss of contact, and opened her eyes giving him a slight pout of her swollen lips. 

He chuckled softly before he reached across the settee and grabbed the two throw pillows and the soft knit blanket his mother insisted was for decoration only. He handed her a pillow and she took it with a lazy smile, sensing his thoughts and laid down on her back slowly, placing the pillow underneath her.

He admired her for a moment, the flicker of the flames from the dying fire danced over her skin as she relaxed with her eyes shut. He quietly placed his pillow beside hers and laid down before throwing the blanket over their legs. No longer resisting the temptation, he leaned over and placed a soft kiss to her exposed cheek and whispered, “Goodnight, Em” before settling himself down.

She turned to her side and reached blindly for his hand. Once enclosed, she wrapped both hands around it, hugging it to her chest and breathed, “Goodnight Drake.”

Her nimble fingers traced over the M of Draco’s ring until she fell into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment about what you think so far!


	18. Delicate Affairs

“It was a lie when they smiled and said you won’t feel a thing.”   
-My Chemical Romance, Disenchanted

They were both harshly pulled from their sleep by the slamming of the sliding doors thrusting open. 

Draco groaned at the sound, his head throbbing from the swelling due to the Firewhiskey. Ember sat up immediately, her eyes wide and aware as Lucius stood in the doorway, looking at them disapprovingly.

Draco blearily blinked his eyes open once he felt Ember shift next to him and turned his eyes onto the intruder of their peaceful sleep. Shit. When he had given into sleep last night he paid no mind to the idea that his father could catch them in the morning.

Lucius pursed his lips at the couple. One of the house elves had informed him of their whereabouts when he had found their room empty. He walked into the room and casually grasped the bottle of Fergus’s Firewhiskey and tisked, “If you were going to swipe some of my liquor you could have at least stolen some of the good stuff.”

Ember gulped and wrung her hands together, very much not liking the way the morning was starting out. Was it even still morning? There were no windows in the parlor and she felt as if she had been sleeping for years.

Draco groaned again but noticed that his father was dressed in black robes that indicated that he was leaving the manor, “Do I need to come with you?”

He hadn’t felt the strange pinch on his dark mark but knew that his father was going to the Dark Lord.

“No.” He stated, and Draco felt himself relax further into his pillow at the wonderful news, “I’m here for Ember.”

Like being doused in cold water, Draco flung up like a sentry on duty. “What do you mean, you’re here for Ember?”

He looked over to the girl in question and could see the worry cloud over her eyes as she stared at his father.

“I have been requested to bring her.”

“But I didn’t feel anything!” Draco protested clambering up from the ground.

Lucius rolled his eyes, meticulously placing the Firewhiskey back on the bar, “That’s because you are not invited.”

“There is no way she is leaving without me. Invited or not, I’m going.” Draco glared. Draco paced across the room, glaring indignantly. 

“You are not.” Lucius scowled, twirling his cane in his hand. “Now stop acting like a child.”

“No!” Draco shouted, “He can’t just request her without me!”

“You don’t get a say!” Lucius roared.

Draco bristled, his nostrils flaring. Ember’s eyes ran from one Malfoy to the other. The tension that was always between the two was bending in a way it usually didn’t. Draco didn’t usually outwardly oppose his father. It had never been worth the backlash. That was back when the consequences where childish, now they were life or death. She couldn’t go to Voldemort without him. He wouldn’t leave her alone to that fate, even if it meant staring the cold eyes of his father down.

Ember slowly got up to her feet. “It’s okay,” She spoke strongly, meeting her father-in-law’s eyes over Draco’s shoulder.

“No it’s not!” Draco twisted to face her, eyes liquid skies before a storm.

She felt a sadness wash through her. Here he was, arguing with his father, trying to protect her. There was nothing that could protect them. He knew that better than anyone yet he was desperately sticking his neck out for her. She shook her head. It was black and white, there was no room for grey; it would only mean torment.

“What if we went back to the castle? He wouldn’t be able to touch her there.” Draco reasoned, his eyes bleeding desperation.

She grasped his arm, pleading softly, “Please, don’t make this worse. We knew this could happen.” Of course, they assumed that it would be Draco summoned and not her. Her eyes shifted to a surprisingly silent Lucius, “Keeping him waiting isn’t going to help matters.” She gave his arm a squeeze, gazing at him with a stronger resolve than he expected of her. “I’ll be okay.”

“Em…”Her name left his lips in a vain plea for something neither controlled. His hand reached for her cheek but she pulled away swiftly shaking her head.

Lucius returned toward the open door way, he stopped dramatically and turned back towards the couple. “Come on, darling” He called, inclining his head to the hallway.

She took heavy steps towards her father in-law with her head bowed in submission, feeling as if her feet were filled with lead. Draco glowered at his father with each step she took away from him. Lucius narrowed his eyes at his son before leading her down the hall towards the back of the house.

~

Ember winced at the bright midafternoon sun as they stepped off the back porch and onto the gravel that led to the gardens. Lucius’s dark black robes contrasted drastically from his long white hair as he held his arm out for her, “We’re going to apparate. Do you know what that is?” He asked not unkindly.

She nodded and slipped her hand in the crook of his arm.

“Hold on tight, it’ll be over in a moment…” He told her before turning on his heel, dragging her through time and space with him leaving nothing but a loud crack in the yard.

The breath left her lungs as she felt her body being pulled and pinched in a very atomic way; like she was being forced between a solid, liquid, and gas all at once. It was over just as quickly as it had started. When the spinning came to a stop they were in a dark field in front of a very old run down house. Her stomach dropped at the feeling of apparating, but it wasn’t the disorienting nausea that had her heart racing. She knew that very strange feeling. She knew the abstract feeling so well as if she had done it over and over in a past life. She had remembered the exact feeling without having a memory to connect it to.

She gasped and spun around as if a long-ago vision was chasing her.

Lucius brows pulled together as the girl turned around in a circle. Her eyes were frantic, mouth gaping like a fish. “I’ve- I’ve done that before…” She whispered.

He blinked rapidly at such an odd display. “What did you say?”

Her eyes settled on him and she gulped; this was no time to dwell on what could have been nothing more than a dream, “Nothing. I-never mind. It’s… nothing.” 

He stared at her for a moment more wondering if that display was what Severus had been talking about. It was very unsettling indeed. 

He motioned her to follow and she took a deep breath as he escorted her inside. She took in deep steadying breaths as they stepped through the field and closer and closer to the house. It was a dark shadow except for one single flickering light on the second floor. 

Ember wondered where they were as Lucius stepped up the front steps causing them to creak dangerously under his weight. He gave her another look, this time impatient. She glanced up at him expressionless, under no impression that he would become a safe harbor in the events that would follow. She was on her own, about to step through the gates of hell.

Her eyes cut through him as she joined him over the threshold coolly. He straightened his back and took a deep breath of his own before entering the house and leading her up the immediate staircase to the right.

She had become a whisper of a shadow behind him, not even the floor boards creaked underneath her as she followed him up the stairs and down the long dark hall; his wand being the only source of light. He had to glance behind him to make sure she was even still there. Her green eyes looked positively feline in the glow of the wand, and he noticed that her feet were bare. 

He was about to reprimand her for thinking that she could stand before the Dark Lord so poorly presented, but the door in front of them opened a crack revealing his deranged sister in-law.  
An ominous grin grew on Bellatrix’s lips as she saw the two and opened the door wider for them to enter. Ember had never seen Draco’s aunt this close before. Her hair was long and dark, crimped and crazy, flying all about her face. Her eyes were black and daring as they filed into the room. She might have even been pretty if not for the untamed psychotic energy that followed her like smoke.

Bellatrix screeched, “Oh you are very pretty up close! Sissy has been going on and on about you! What pretty babies you’ll give-“

“Bella.” His voice rasped from somewhere in the room, cutting off the needless ranting. 

Bellatrix whimpered softly and hunched her shoulders into her neck before moving aside and letting Ember and Lucius move into the room.

Voldemort sat in an empty room sept for an uncomfortable looking chair before a roaring fire. The floorboards old and torn, paint cracking, drapes looked as if they had been scorched at some point. It smelt like dust and death and felt cold, like the sun had never touched it. The only other person in the room was a portly fellow with the face of a rat. The snake sat curled up by its master.

“Enigma…” He called, his voice beckoning her forward.

And despite the apprehension, the terror, and the tremors that wouldn’t leave, Ember fought her intuition and stepped forward and around the chair till she was standing in front of him.

His arms were resting on the arm rest; hands clasped gracefully underneath his chin. He looked weaker than before, less grandiose. His eyes were sunken further into his skull than the last time she had seen him causing him to look frail in a purely deceiving way. He eyed her figure, as if she had physically changed in the months she had been apart from him. He paused at her eyes, that stared back at him not in challenge but in sheer perceptiveness. 

“Leave us,” He commanded.

Lucius took a step further into the room his mouth hanging open. Ember’s eyes flickered to him at the sudden movement. She could tell from the unsettlement of his eyes, of Draco’s eyes, that this had not been the plan. 

He was just about to protest, but Wormtail had already scurried from the room and Bellatrix was pulling on his arm. He stared at the impassive girl, knowing that if anything happened to her, his son would never forgive him.

Her eyes cast down to the ground, accepting the fate unfolding before her. The door creaked shut a moment later, enclosing her in the room with the deadliest creature that had ever walked the earth.

“Sit child,” He directed evenly. 

Ember knew logically that he meant for her to sit on the floor, so that she would physically be beneath him, but when she eyed the snake who peered at her, she hesitated. Ever so slowly she lowered herself to sit on the ground, covering her legs nimbly with the skirt of her slept in dress; only then did she realize that her feet were bare. Strange what your mind notices when in danger.  
She kept her eyes on the large snake, that she had become eye level with, extremely careful to not make any sudden movements.

“Does Nagini frighten you?” He asked conversationally. 

Ember didn’t see the point in lying. She was sitting at the mercy of a master manipulator, lies would only create a web for his advantage. Honesty be her saving grace, she nodded her head slowly.  
Without command, Nagini hissed, her tongue shooting out between her lips, and began to un-coil herself to slither her head into Ember’s lap.

Ember knew that she couldn’t refuse or recoil as she sat trembling on the floor with the deadly part of a fourteen-stone reptile in her lap. She allowed her eyes to close tightly for a moment and took in several deep breaths through her nose. She was being tested; better she be compliant than rebellious. She stood but on the edge of a knife, one wrong move and it would all be over.  
“Severus claims that you have improved greatly these past months.”

It shouldn’t have been news that Snape had be in contact with him. It was easy for Ember to forget that her professor was a Death Eater. He was calm, collected, and precise with her but not overly dark.

The lord in front of her wasn’t what she expected out of devil incarnated. He was dangerous, yes, agile and ambitious; but his appearance was deceiving. He was slow and nimble, the remnants of what happens to a man striving for immortality. 

He tilted his head, letting his index finger brush against his lower lip as he studied her. A snake looking into a dove.

“He estimates that you have yet to unveil your full potential.”

She sat unmoving, obedient as she gazed straight on into the red slit he had for eyes. He puzzled over the difference, where before she was demure and unsure now she was resigned and complacent as if she had a switch that could shift her disposition. What an interesting concept to equate to his enigma.

“Claims that we should call you a Patronum; a healing shield.”

Though she couldn’t control the shivering of her limbs her eyes stayed still; only flinching slightly when Nagini hissed out her tongue. If he did not know better, he would claim she was under the imperious curse with how collected her composure was. His eyes darkened, “Speak child!”

She inhaled a big breath, not disconnecting their eyes, “You’ve not asked me a question.”

His back straightened as he regarded her. No one outwardly respected him like this. He commanded respect, but it was usually coerced through levels of fear. Her reaction wasn’t natural. Still, she had not spoken falsely. Cleverer than she appeared, hmmm? Very different from her husband.

Voldemort hissed parseltongue to Nagini. Ember’s eyes only widened slightly, her nostrils slightly flaring, fingers clasping at the fabric at the end of her dress as the snake began to coil around her torso slowly.

“Are you liking Hogwarts?”

Nagini swooped around and around.

“It’s beautiful. Impenetrable.”

He scowled down at her description.

“Do you know why I need you Enigma?” 

She shook her head. Nagini settled her head over Ember’s shoulder squeezing all her internal organs testily. When she hissed, Ember could feel the faint flick of her tongue on her cheek whispering daringly into her skin. 

“You see I can be vulnerable in this state,” He bit out harshly. “To have a protective shield is invaluable. It will allow me to brush against the edges of society myself, and not have to rely on my followers to cover me from my enemies. You see, they mean well, but rarely do they get to the point of matters.”

“You want me to become a shelter.” She stated evenly; Nagini giving her another torturous squeeze.

“I want the protection your ability provides, Enigma.” 

Her brows knitted into unconcealed confusion. 

“Severus explains that you still have a long way to go, and that the results will be much more than just promising. So you shall continue your education with Severus until Draco finishes his tasks and by then I expect results for my investment. I expect you to become my shield; impenetrable and formidable.”

That wasn’t news, she thought. That was always the deadline, wasn’t it?

“Do you know why it’s called a dark marriage, Enigma?”

She shook her head again.

“It bounds two souls eternally. Therefore, if one dies, so shall the other.” His bare toes tapped along the wood as he paused. “Souls are interesting. They can be connected or disconnected. There is strength in both.” He leaned forward bearing his eyes down on hers, “If either of you prove unworthy in the following months, you will be of no use to me and consequently disposed of. Do I make myself clear?”

She nodded. He wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t already assumed. The fact that her and Draco’s lives were physically tied together was not the shock that it should have been. So, why go through the trouble of even bringing her? Was it simply just to test her resolve and instill the message already previously imparted? Give her smidges of dark wisdom so that she might reveal some truth in the deceptiveness?

He measured her reaction. Expecting her to plea for the life of her lover. That is generally how women behaved when propositioned with such a future. Yet her eyes remained as still as stone. Perhaps her loyalties did not extend as far as he thought, very interesting.

Nagini seemed to find little joy in her discomfort an un wound from her before slithering off behind the chair. Ember’s breaths came to her easier once out of the claws of a venom induced murder. She had no wishes to become Nagini’s dinner like her father had been.

“Your initiation was deterred by Severus. He disagrees with it still. And while I listen to the advisement of others, that is all it really is- advisement. I’ve always tended to gamble with the odds…” He slowly held his hand out, palm up.

Without a choice, she dutifully placed her left arm in his hand, preparing for the aforementioned branding. 

His skin felt as thin as parchment and as cool as the feeling of ice water swallowed and moving to your stomach. His finger nails were long and immaculately rounded. She wondered if Bellatrix was required to give him regular manicures.

She shivered as he brought the tip of his wand to her forearm, just like he had all those months ago. It started with tendrils of soft pain. They vibrated delicately to the nerves, just like if you had stubbed your toe. Then indentions began to scar her arm, causing ridges and valleys, in the form of a snake tongue slithering out of a skull. It was a nuisance and slightly nauseating watching her skin bubble into the unwanted symbol, before enchanted ink slipped from the wand and filled in the scar tissue with black. Only when the inked snake began to squirm on her skin, did he remove his wand and let her pull her arm out of his grasp.

She felt a firm pressure in her mind, like she was about to get a migraine, while she studied the deadly tattoo now marking her arm forever. Small droplets of blood began to flood to the surface of the edges of her mark. 

Voldemort looked on inquisitively. How curious, he thought. Most initiation was filled with repressed screams and the burning of the skin. Yet, hers drew blood from scarred tissue and she remained mute. She swiped her thumb across the top half, smearing the blood in the process, as the snake returned to normal.

The door creaked open behind the Dark Lord. “Send Bella in,” He dismissed unceremoniously with a wave of his hand. His eyes turning back towards the fire.

She stood up slowly on legs made of gelatin and waited just half a moment more for him to amend his command, before making quick strides to the open door and down the stairs.  
In a room she hadn’t noticed off to the side of the entryway, stood the three Death Eaters. Lucius and Bellatrix seemed to be in the middle of a mild argument, as they whispered viciously back and forth. Wormtail stood off to the side biting his nails anxiously. They all paused when they noticed her.

“He asked for Bella,” She whispered dully.

Lucius stared at the dark imprint now marring her arm, labelling her as one of them.

~

Draco paced. It was all he could do. They had been gone for hours. Anything could be happening and he didn’t appreciate being on the sidelines. It was a silent threat from Voldemort. He could kill her right now, just for the fact that Draco hadn’t delivered yet. 

It fried his nerves that he was useless. Thrown to the side or not, she was his wife. His responsibility and if anything happened to her- he didn’t even want to imagine.

Especially after last night. They had finally reached a level of intimacy that Draco originally thought they would never reach. A few kisses, and he was tossed deep into her without a care; he would do anything for her. Though as terrifying as his discovery was, he found that at the moment he didn’t care. He could judge his feelings later when they weren’t the driving force of his paces.

His mother had found him shortly after their departure and persuaded him into the sitting room; where she dutifully sat and watched over her boy as he unraveled. 

She wished there was something she could do for him. She had tried to reassure and sympathize because there was no one better to sympathize with. She was in Draco’s position perpetually. For decades, she honorably waited for the outcomes of not only her husband, but her older sister as well. Now she waited for her son and daughter in-law. While she remained uninitiated, sometimes the lack of label was harder to ignore.

Her words gave him no relief and after a few attempts she gave up altogether. Nothing would help him until that girl walked back through the door. So, she sat and watched him ruin one of her favorite rugs. 

A quarter after five, Lucius walked through the door way- alone.

Draco stilled completely as he took in his Father, unable to ignore the absence of his wife, suddenly terrified of what would come out of his mouth.

Lucius could see that of all the things he had tried to teach him, impassivity did not take. His boy looked positively feral with anxiety dripping out of him in waves. Completely unkempt and uncivilized, he still preferred his son’s current state to that of his daughter in-law.

She was impassive when she returned to him. Respectful, Resolved, and so emotionless that it unnerved the older man to the core. She carried no fear, no bashful avoidance, no look of pain. No one could have known what had taken place in that room, besides the fact that for all intents and purposes she was now a Death Eater, but it unsettled him greatly to see this version of her return. It was no imperious curse, no tortuous command, rather the vacancy of a despairing soul. He wasn’t sure how Draco would accept the change. So, when she asked for a moment alone on the back porch, he granted it to her. 

Draco swallowed harshly a lump forming in the back of his throat. “Where,” He cleared his throat, “Where is she?” 

Lucius sighed, and chanced a glance at his concerned wife before turning back to his son, “She’s on the porch.”

Draco took a moment, before nodding to himself and making a move to leave. Lucius placed a hand on his shoulder, and at his son’s murderous glare he only shook his head. Whatever Draco found in his eyes caused him to pause. 

“What happened?” He questioned.

“He spoke with her alone.”

Narcissa let out a tiny gasp and covered her mouth with a manicured hand. 

Draco felt whatever adrenaline had been pushing him the past hours disappear to be replaced with dread. The list of people who had been alone with Voldemort was few; the list of ones who lived to tell the tale fewer still. 

“Why?”

“He initiated her, beyond that I do not know.”

Draco shivered at the thought of her being initiated at all; much less to be initiated all alone with the overbearing evil. He felt his own arm ache at the thought.

Despite the news, he tried to move around his father only to be pushed back once more. “She’s not herself.”

Draco stilled and clenched his jaw, unswayed, “You don’t even know her.”

With that, Lucius couldn’t argue and he let Draco pass. His son had never looked so decisive and determined. 

~

She was sat on the back-porch steps when he approached her. Her back was crouched over her torso; the only movement was of her hair blowing softly in the wind as the last rays of sun shined over the garden. 

He hesitated, only for a moment before he falteringly took a seat beside her. Her face was placid as he inspected her profile. He could have sworn she looked older. Perhaps it was the way she was holding herself without a sheepish bone in her body. Perhaps the experience aged her in a way that he wouldn’t be able to understand. Perhaps it was the fact that she paid no mind to his presence at all.

“I want to be alone.” She commented after a moment.

“We don’t always get what we want.” He responded.

She let out a sigh, but didn’t argue.

He only now managed to see the mark on her left arm. Though it was the same as his, it looked entirely unrelated. Dried blood covered the expanse of her forearm giving the snake a crimson backdrop. It looked as if her skin was rejecting the intrusion, the edges of the mark were raised and seemingly disfigured where his had always been smooth and flawless. It wasn’t as pretty as his. It was angry and unrelenting and he wondered if it pained her. While his own mark ached, it never actually hurt passed the initial initiation.

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

“Not really. Only if I think about it.”

She supposed if she tried she could mend it with her newly found skill in healing, but she felt so numb that she almost welcomed the gentle throb to remind her that she had survived.  
Her encounter with the Dark Lord was nothing shy of alarming. She had managed to block all fear and doubt for the impromptu meeting and now she couldn’t seem to find a way to unhinge her emotions. Perhaps this had been one trauma too many. It may be that self-preservation is overriding her need for anything else of value. It wouldn’t be so bad, she thought, if I stayed like this.

She knew the thought should have appalled her, for what difference is there from her to Voldemort if she had no conscious. 

“I was so worried,” Draco admitted. The level of concern falling from his lips caused her to turn her eyes to him.

The statement was very un-Draco like. He rarely ever admitted to vulnerabilities; he would always default to defensive. She supposed he thought if he didn’t voice his concerns then they couldn’t be used against him or maybe that they didn’t exist if left ignored. However, he looked so distressed. His fingers were twitching on his knees and she got the feeling that he wanted to touch her; maybe even like he had last night.

At the thought, she felt her cheeks redden in a blush of humanity. His velvety lips mingling with hers had felt unadulterated. It had the promise of a deeper connection that she had only read about. It was a toe dipped into un-tread waters that she wanted to dive into. She wanted the feeling of Firewhiskey kisses imprinted into her very soul for the rest of her life.

She thought of what the Dark Lord had told her. It offered her little insight and even littler change. If he had thought he would intimidate her by revealing the truth of a dark marriage, he was clearly mistaken. He had already made it quite clear that if either of them failed, the other would suffer. His reiteration of that fact in a different light didn’t alarm her any more than it already had, and she quickly decided not to reveal it to Draco.

He was already upset enough about the whole situation that pouring alcohol on an already blazing fire would do nothing productive, and perhaps he already knew. Yes, she decided, best to leave that part out.

“What happened?” Draco asked.

She felt a flicker of resentment. Why was she always on the short end of the stick? Draco gets important tasks and hides it from her for months and yet the moment she returns he’s badgering for information. It was annoying and hypocritical. But there was no need to digress to old grievances and in her muddled brain she knew he only asked because he was concerned. Alone together, she reminded herself, we’re alone together. 

She let out a long sigh, feeling impossibly tired with the whole ordeal. “He was intense; but there was nothing new. He only wanted to discuss and reiterate his expectations of me.”

“So he wanted an update?”

Ember rolled her eyes, “No. Snape already gave him one of those; he just wanted to impose,” she halfheartedly rose her disfigured arm, “and initiate me obviously.”

Draco wavered slightly. Even if his father didn’t know her, he wasn’t wrong. Ember was different. She stared at the garden with such disdain carved in her usually peaceful face. She looked completely disillusioned and consequently disheartened. 

“Are you okay?” He whispered, knowing what a ridiculous question it was, but having nothing better to offer.

“Have to be, right?” She replied steadily. A moment passed where they both stared out into the setting sun before she asked, “I know it’s early, but can I just go to bed?”

He hated that she thought she had to ask his permission for something so simple. 

“Of course Em, I’ll come with you.”

She shook her head, “No. It’s the last night, you should spend the evening with your parents.”

“Em…”

She stood up, “Really, I’m fine. Please don’t disappoint them on my account.”

She left without waiting for his response. He sat stumped on the porch, what had actually happened this afternoon?

~

Dinner was an awkward affair. How many times had he had dinner with his parents over the years? And suddenly without the quiet brunette, something felt unbalanced and it irked him.  
His mother had been trying to keep the conversation light, but there was no way you could dissolve the situation. He just wanted the dinner to end so that he could reasonably retire to his room and check on Ember.

As he stood up from the table to do just that, his father intervened, “Draco, join me in the parlor, won’t you?”

He thought to protest, but realized quickly that it would be futile. If his father wanted to talk, they would talk; everything was always on his terms.

And when he sat down on the settee he was shocked as his father handed him a glass of Mulwin’s Brandy. “Come now, your old enough,” He spoke to Draco’s baffled expression and sat himself down in the arm chair across from him.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” Draco asked, after taking a helping gulp of the brandy, hoping it would settle the nerves that had not disappeared since the morning.

“Yes. Severus came by the other night and we had a rather interesting conversation regarding Ember.” Lucius stated as he crossed one leg over the other, his face blank of opinions on the matter.  
Draco quirked an eye brow, his annoyance at the matter pushed behind his curiosity. It wasn’t that Ember didn’t tell him what happened in her sessions with the previous potions master, but he knew she left things out; and if it wasn’t for his resolve to stay away from Snape, he would have inquired about her himself. “What about?”

“Well mostly about her progress. She seems to really be becoming something that the Dark Lord values which is excellent. When her parents reported that she might be a squib all those years ago, your mother and I had been incredibly doubtful. She has quite remarkably changed our preconceived notions.”

Draco couldn’t help but agree, she had changed everyone’s preconceived notions. He wondered if it had anything to do with her gift, or if it was just her as a person.

“Severus also had some concerns.”

“Concerns?” He asked, taking another gulp of whiskey.

Lucius sighed, “Yes. Have you ever noticed Ember being forgetful?”

Draco’s brows pulled together, “I wouldn’t call it forgetful. On occasion, she won’t know the word to something or vice versa. It’s a bit weird, I just assumed she’d been sheltered most of her life.”  
Lucius hummed. “Severus believes there’s an explanation; and after spending time with her myself, I can’t help but agree.”

“What explanation?”

“We think her father obliviated her.”

Draco’s jaw loosened. He couldn’t figure out how to form words as his father gazed at him seriously.

“Blaine was exceptionally gifted at charms. If he memory charmed her multiple times, it would explain her confusion. When you mess with memories-”

“It messes with the brain.” Draco finished. His poor Ember. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? That made complete sense as to why she wouldn’t know basic things. “Why would he do that? To his own daughter?”

Lucius pursed his lips, “We don’t know. He was on the run ever since the war. Perhaps she learned things she wasn’t supposed to know, or she was getting too opinionated; we might never know. The only thing we can do now is lessen the amount of collateral damage his slight may cause.”

“Meaning?”

“She doesn’t know. We need to keep it that way.” Lucius downed his drink and reached for the bottle to pour another one.

“No. She deserves to know that her whole life has been a lie.” Draco argued.

“She could potentially go insane if this situation isn’t dealt with the most delicacy. Draco if she finds out she could have a complete mental breakdown and become even worse than she is now.”  
Draco gestured wildly, “You’re acting like she’s some ticking time-bomb.”

“That’s because she is.” Lucius stated plainly, “This is completely uncharted territory. There is no way to know what could become of this, of her- what this would mean to the Dark Lord. Any of it. It’s best to prevent it as much as possible. That’s why Severus wanted me to fill you in; since you won’t hear him.”

Draco desperately didn’t want this conversation to turn the spotlight on him and his own problems and quickly steered the conversation before it took a detour. “How do you even prevent this? She’s smart. Sooner or later she’s going to figure it out. If she hasn’t already.”

Lucius tilted his head, “I think we would know if she already figured it out.”

Draco shook his, “I wouldn’t be too sure. She has a tendency not to bring things up unless asked to.” He paused, eyes blazing with realization, “You don’t think her father programmed her to be this obedient, do you?”

Lucius shrugged his shoulders, unbothered, “It’s entirely possible. Which is one of the reasons this needs to be kept quiet. Who knows what chain reactions this could cause in her subconscious.”  
Draco rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache.

“Severus agrees with you. It’s only a matter of time until all of this comes to light. You just need to be aware and watch her closely. And If something triggers it, get her to Severus-he’ll hopefully know how to deal with it with as little suspicion as possible.”

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose. It was always one thing after another with them. He downed the rest of his drink and held up the empty glass for a refill. Lucius complied without comment.


	19. Brewing Disaster

“So thank you for the grave, I needed me a place to sleep.”  
-Post Malone, A Thousand Bad Times

Severus had shifted tactics upon the resuming of the year. Ember returned to him with new vigor and unwavering resolve. Where she had always been a sponge for any readily available knowledge she was now a parasite. Gone was the wistful, innocent, girl. Ember was determined. She carried herself with as much grace as she ever did, but her eyes that had always shied away now remained unmoving and calculating. He wasn’t sure what took place during the holidays except for the fact her arm now brandished a symbol not unlike his own. 

She had confidently rolled up her sleeves to her elbows before attempting to recreate a sleeping potion at the restart of term and he immediately took notice. It was the only thing that outwardly explained her change in attitude. They had yet to speak of the implications. 

While he was concerned, and uninformed over her recent encounter with the Dark Lord, he was not overly surprised at the outcome. He immediately thought about taking a glance into her mind again, to try and pinpoint the change, but thought better of it. In fact, within his own thoughts, it then occurred to him that he needed to train her in occlumency. He hesitated due to how dreadful his experience with Potter had been the year before; but Potter had always been a bad student and Ember had always been his perfect interpretation of what a student should be.  
Therefore, he changed his approach in her unorthodox education. He began to add occlumency lessons to her agenda. She had been surprisingly receptive when he had explained and demonstrated.

“It’s mind reading.” She surmised.

“It’s deflecting mind reading.” 

She frowned, “I want to learn how to mind read.”

That caused for concern. They had always focused on the defensive forms of magic; so, that she may remain useful and safe. Never had she shown interest in offensive magic. 

And even disconcerting still after he had pushed into her mind once more, with her in the know. It was still a disastrous mangled mess of thoughts that couldn’t be coherent and when he pulled back she looked at him accusingly.

“You’ve done that before.”

“Yes. I thought it would help to be in your mind when you produced your patronus; thought it might give me more useful information.”

“And did it?”

_Yes, _he thought, _but not in the way it was intended. _______

_____ _

_____ _

“No.” He answered briskly.

“He’s done it before too.”

“Who?”

“The Dark Lord.”

Her unburdened admittance of such a concerning interaction burdened his conscious enough for the two of them. Was that another reason for the shift in her demeanor? Had something more sinister taken place?

She picked up occlumency fast. Ironically fast due to the state of her mind; but perhaps it was also a form of healing and therefore she could draw from the healing magic in her core. She even excelled in legilimency, when he gave her the chance. 

Like most people, he didn’t appreciate others invading his mind. He offered her his mind so that she wouldn’t go off and try it on her own. She greedily took every opportunity he gave her.  
She had pushed through his barriers swiftly and flipped through memories like files in a cabinet. She had gone from pre-pubescent Severus, to a graduated Severus, to his own branding, and his first day as potions-master like the dripping flames of a lit match. She stopped longer on his worst memory, caressing it longer than the others. It was the one that haunted his nights to this day, of a dead Lily Potter and a screaming baby. 

He abruptly pushed her out of his mind refusing to make eye contact with her while she caught her breath.

“It’s supposed to be harder than that, isn’t it?” She asked, elated. 

It was the tiny smirk that followed such an achievement that caused him to expand upon her healing education.

In the mornings or in the afternoons, depending on the day, he and she would walk amongst the grounds. He wanted to get her out of the dark dungeon, see how she communicated with her peers, and give her room to heal plants and the occasional animal they came across. Her talents blossomed and allowed for harder principles.

She was a natural. There had always been this energy of untapped potential but now it was a deep cavern that expanded to capabilities he never thought would be possible for her. She could now control her patronus form as if it was a glove she simply had to slide on. She could heal any lacerations and even managed to diminish small scarring. Hell, he didn’t even have to teach her nonverbal spells, because she was practically a walking nonverbal spell. He even went as far as to let her attend lessons on apparation. And though he was leery at first, he theoretically taught her the Unforgivable Curses and anything else he thought might be useful from the Defense Against the Dark Arts Curriculum from years one through seven. 

He kept a careful check on her displayed emotions. Looking for any deeper confusion; any inkling of anger or disregard. He found her impassive and not even her frustration mounted the surface of her visage most days.

She remained quiet and patient while balancing an ambitious response for more. More training, more theories, more possibilities. And while Severus severely appreciated the approach he couldn’t help but feel like he was brewing disaster.

~

What everyone failed to realize was that she had new purpose. Suddenly the time constraint on her time at Hogwarts and her time with Professor Snape was always at the forefront of her mind; and frankly it wasn’t enough time.

She needed to learn everything before she was locked out of the establishment. Once the year ended, she knew that she and Draco would not be returning. Whether or not Draco succeeded in killing the Headmaster didn’t matter. They wouldn’t be returning one way or the other. 

Her latest encounter with the Dark Lord gave her more insight into her predicament. He was going to use her. That had always been the general idea, but truthfully it hadn’t sunk in till he unabashedly confided in her his plans. She wasn’t willing to be used. Her will had little to say up against the gargantuan obstacles against her, and therefore she needed to know everything.  
She needed to know everything about herself and her abilities. What she would be able to do and what she would be incapable of. She needed to have advantages over all her disadvantages; she had to become a better player in this game of survival. If not for Draco’s sake, then for her own.

She also needed to know everything about the Dark Lord and who he had been as Tom Riddle. She learned that she was an incredibly perceptive person and she tended to pick up eccentricities that others did not. How Severus desperately wanted her to succeed even though he prepared her like he would a light wizard and not a dark wizard, which seemed to derive from his own sense of worth. Or how Narcissa played the part of Switzerland when it came to dark matters; she would be right on the edge but she wouldn’t take the full plunge. Or how Draco couldn’t seem to see that why he couldn’t fix the cabinets or execute the Headmaster had nothing to do with his intelligence and everything to do with the fact that he simply was too good natured to fully try. She had to learn everything about Voldemort on the chance that she would be able to exploit her own knowledge in her favor. Knowledge is power; and she was going to learn it all.

Her access to the restricted section of the library came to use more than she initially anticipated. While the famous tale of how Voldemort rose and fell from sovereignty could be heard and found easily enough, it was the principles he preached that were harder to find. 

She refused to be useless, or taken advantage of without her knowing. It lit a fire underneath her and caused her great distraction in the small part of her life that could be claimed as social.  
Her social life revolved, as it always would, around Draco. And he had become worse for wear.

Just as she began to stress about the time she had left, so did Draco.

They had become cold.

He had tried to keep his connection to Ember strong but it faded into the background- it had to.

The second they returned to the school, it was crunch time. He had nothing to show for the first semester except for failed attempts and failing grades. He had selfishly let himself soften over the break to relax while he could. It was foolish; he should have been planning, researching- hell he should have gone back to Borgin and Burkes and interrogated Borgin himself. Instead, he had allowed himself to relax in the comforts of home and drown in the gradually bewildering chasm that was his wife.

He had worried over Ember and therefore let time, that was becoming all the more precious, slip through his fingers. He had to let his feelings for her go; they were only a distraction and if he didn’t succeed there wasn’t going to be an Ember to focus his feelings on. He couldn’t let himself worry about how quickly, how easy, it had been for Voldemort to take Ember. He couldn’t let himself worry about how terrified he had felt with her gone. The message read loud and clear- tasks first or the girl would be gone.

They barely spoke nowadays. It wasn’t malicious, wasn’t passive aggressive. The obstacles became a glass barrier between them; one they both acknowledged with hands placed against the glass, but one neither of them contemplated shattering.

For all the anxiety and stress of the first term all he was now was numb. He watched himself bury everything; his hopes, his dreams, his wants, his needs. He watched as the current came and drowned all his senses. He watched as the hour glass began to fill. He watched as he became a shell and wondered when his thoughts stopped being his own.

He wasn’t this guy. He wasn’t the guy to have been seduced by depression. He wasn’t the guy to follow blindly. He had just wanted to appease his father. How had that lead to this empty soul? With all the stress of the impending doom, all the long glances Ember gave him, all the disappointment he saw in the mirror- he did nothing. All his attempts had been futile. He was strained. Too much jam spread too thin over toast. 

She wasn’t around anyways. She was always in the library or in Snape’s office, or walking around the grounds with Snape. The only time he let himself sink in thoughts of her was when he crawled into bed and wrapped all his limbs around her at the end of the day. Most times she would in return the embrace so that he couldn’t distinguish what limbs belonged to him and which belonged to her. Firewhiskey kisses seemed so far out of reach as the force that tethered them withered into a limp string. 

~

She got the idea her second lesson in apparation. It came with her thoughts on how wizards travelled. To successfully apparate you had to focus on a location so intensely that you had to be able to visualize the location to the point where if you hadn’t been there before it was entirely impossible. She had wondered if the same could be applied to people. If you could locate a person based on intense observation. The abbreviation GPS popped into her head one day. It was so out of left field that it startled her and it took her twice as long to remember what it meant. When she eventually she did, it furthered her need to know if wizards could communicate and transport that way. 

The thought haunted her already overexposed brain for days. She thought about confiding her thoughts to Snape, but she had become all too leery around him. Something about knowing that he had spoken to Voldemort about her had overbearingly reminded her what side he was on. Filtering through his memories had only confused and blurred the line with anguished green eyes and flowing red hair. Her heart told her that she could trust him, but her head spoke the truth; she couldn’t trust anyone besides Draco. She didn’t need Snape to give away all her secrets.

So, she kept her thoughts to herself and mulled over the possibilities. She thought about how with Floo powder you had to clearly enunciate the desired location. How with portkeys you only needed a touch. How with apparation you had to visualize. She wondered how all the dynamics worked and it they could be adapted. 

She wanted to be able to locate people without knowing where they were. Over the next apparation lessons that Snape allowed her to attend, she experimented. 

Draco found it to be very curious that Ember was allowed to attend the apparation lessons. It became one of the only times he spent with her outside of their bed at night. They would make the trip to outskirts of Hogsmeade together; sometimes with Blaise and a sulking Pansy, sometimes alone. 

Blaise would always engage Ember in conversation, as he had always done before, and Pansy would focus all her energy in making Ember uncomfortable. Draco had become even less of a socializer with his peers and therefore when Ember was around they quickly focused their efforts on interacting with her instead. 

Draco was unbelievably pleased when Ember reverted to her old behavior. She would flush at all comments and unconsciously move closer to Draco’s side, brushing the back of his hand with her own. He finally understood that she was a turtle. She would only open and allow him into her shell.

“Think you’ll be able to actually apparate this time Parkinson?” Blaise teased as the four of them tramped down the pathway to the village.

“Shove off Zabini! You only moved a meter last week!” Pansy huffed.

“Well maybe Ember could give you some tips!” Blaise antagonized further.

Ember tensed, desperately wanting to steer clear of a nasty Pansy. “She doesn’t need any of my tips Blaise. Draco won’t even take my advice.”

Draco rolled his eyes at the juvenility of the situation. Apparation came easy to Ember; it had only taken her one practice trip before she had the hang of it. When he had asked her how, she had only shrugged and said that perhaps disapparating with his father gave her an advantage. Draco had scoffed. His father never dissaparated with him. 

“Eh Draco doesn’t take advice from anyone,” Blaise brushed off, pulling his grey beanie down further over his ears. “Don’t mind these two. I will happily take any advice you give!” He smiled cheekily.

Draco scowled. Blaise was always a ginormous flirt when it came to Ember. If Draco had just a little more energy he would have jinxed him. 

Surprisingly Ember rolled her eyes at Zabini’s antics. “You do fine on your own Blaise.”

Zabini puffed his chest out at the compliment. 

At the lesson that day something peculiar happened. Ember had always placed her hula hoop next to Draco’s, but this time she placed it further away from his. He originally shrugged it off; that was until she apparated and didn’t show up in her designated hula hoop. She reappeared in his instead. 

His eyes bugged at the sudden intrusion into his personal space. Her eyes had been wide as well, but it looked more like she was excited rather than shocked, which made it all the more curiouser.

She had given him a small awkward smile and hesitantly pecked his cheek before gallivanting back over to her hoop. He watched her walk away from him in mild suspicion. He shot a glance at the ever-present golden trio four hoops down, just to make sure they hadn’t witnessed the peculiarity.

~

It had worked!

She closed her eyes and focused into her mind and placed all her concentration of the feeling of Draco’s skin. It was like looking for his fingerprint through a menagerie of blood vessels. She had to remember how it felt to touch him, hold on to the feeling, and press it into the slot that demanded her to think of a location.

And it had worked! She had successfully apparated to a person based on a touch memory. She was so excited that she had to try it again.

Moving back to her assigned hoop, grateful of the fact that the instructors hadn’t noticed her little experiment, she tried again. Only this time she would make it harder. She had to think of someone that wasn’t in Hogwarts or in the lesson with her. And it had to be someone she had touched, preferably not a Death Eater. She didn’t need to be randomly apparating into a meeting or anything.

That left only one person; Narcissa. 

She focused on her, precisely on all the times her slender fingers had pressed into Ember’s shoulders. It was harder this time. She had touched Draco so many times that it was much easier to recall his location signature than that of his mother’s; but nonetheless, she succeeded again.

With a crack, her shoes disappeared from the soft grass to reappear on cobble stones of the nearly empty street of Diagon Alley. Where none other than Narcissa Malfoy had stopped to look outside the window of Flourish and Blotts. Ember gulped as Narcissa turned at the sound and noticed Ember, in her school uniform, standing there in the middle of the street. 

“Ember?” She asked bewildered.

Ember awkwardly laughed with a slight wave, “Hi. Um… we’re learning apparation and I got a little over ambitious.”

Narcissa didn’t look entirely convinced as her eyes ghosted around the space around them. She had been trying to remain inconspicuous in her errand to the Alley. “Well, you’d better return then, don’t you think?”

Ember nodded, cringing at the complete awkwardness of the situation. Well, it could have been worse. She could have splinched herself or caught Narcissa in an undesirable position.  
In an attempt to practice her new-found skill, instead of focusing on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, she focused on Draco once again.

Her vision blurred before her eyes and a moment later she was staring into Draco’s grey eyes; trying to decide if she was overly dizzy from the apparating or his expression.

They were alone on the pathway half way back up to the castle. His expression that had jolted in surprise quickly flashed to frustration as he huffed at her. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaned forward, and harshly asked, “Where did you go?” The bite in his tone was enough for her to flinch and take two steps back.

“Well-” She began, slightly flustered, only to be cut off a moment later. 

“Fuck!” He yelled. “You were lucky Maverick didn’t seem to care about attendance as long as all the hoops were returned. Pansy would have ratted you out if it wasn’t for Blaise. You can’t just do stuff like that Em!”

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, contrite.

He just rolled his eyes at her and continued to trek up towards the castle, not caring whether she was following him or not.

“Really!” She called. “Draco I’m sorry but it was the only time I could experiment!”

He rounded on her flabbergasted, “Experiment?! Ember! You don’t just go experimenting with magic alright? Especially when you don’t even have a proper education. They stuck you with Snape for a fucking reason!”

Ember flinched. She hated when he cursed, especially at her. “Well we can’t always trust Snape, now can we?” She countered stubbornly.

Draco paused. Huh? She had always been on Snape’s side of things and suddenly she doesn’t trust him? “What the bloody hell are you talking about?”

She sighed, “He’s not full trustworthy. None of them are. Plus, it was incredibly far-fetched idea. He never would have let me attempt it.”

“Oh just great! That makes me feel loads better Em! What the fuck did you do with an apparation experiment anyways?” He barked, irritation flaring in his eyes.

Her fingers fiddled with each other under his demanding glare. “I…um. I apparated to a person instead of a place. I’m calling it apparation through touch memories. Though that doesn’t have quite a nice ring to it…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” He shook his head, gesturing for her to stop, “You’re what?”

She huffed, but tried her best to explain, “It’s like filtering DNA from my memory of people I’ve touched. Then I can locate them and apparate to them. It’s what I did with you earlier.”

And her brain was supposed to be fucked up.

His jaw dropped, “Did you just… invent something?”

Ember shrugged. “I don’t know. Theoretically yes? I’m not sure if anyone else can locate someone from past touch or if that’s just an effect of my abnormalities; but it has to be useful don’t you think?”

But Draco was done listening and instead crashed his lips to hers. This girl, that no one thought capable of anything, just created a new form of transportation all by herself. She was so fucking smart and holy shit if it wasn’t attractive.

She floundered for a moment by the surprise attack of lips in the middle of her rambling, but sighed into the kiss all the same. It was quick and when he pulled back he asked, “Where did you go then? Who else did you test it on?”

Ember blushed, “I um…visited your mother.”

“You went home?”

Ember wasn’t sure if she would ever consider Malfoy Manor her home per say but shook her head all the same, “She was in Diagon Alley.”

“And you spoke with her?”

“Yeah. She seemed a bit frazzled but I just told her that we were practicing apparation and she told me to come back. Actually, now that I think about it, I think there’s a time delay because I really wasn’t gone that long.”

He kissed her again, just to quit her rambling, pride flowing off of him in waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading your comments!


	20. Drenched in the Water

“And in the end, I’d do it all again. I think you’re my best friend. And don’t you know that the kids aren’t alright?”  
-Fall Out Boy, The Kids Aren’t Alright

He killed a bird. It was such a small thing, such a small life that had died during the transportation. He had never killed anything and the scene of the tiny white bird laying lifeless at the bottom of the cabinet tightened his throat considerably. If a bird could cut him down to the bone, how would he ever be able to kill Dumbledore?

This latest failure destroyed his taciturn disposition. He was so close to the edge of a forever being taken from him, he could feel the crumbles starting to give way to his unshakable disappointments.

He needed Ember. She would know how to fix this. She was good like that; knowing what he needed emotionally before he did. This…death was too emotionally devastating to his already fragile heart.

He hoped that she would be waiting in the Great Hall. Sometimes, after she had her ridiculous walks with Snape, she would step in to their evening meal. She seemed to do it more when Draco was quieter in the mornings as if she sensed that he wasn’t in the mood to deal with society alone. He appreciated her for her intuitiveness and even more for her discretion. He had never been one to bring up situations in which he would flounder awkwardly in. 

He counted on her being in the Hall this evening because he wasn’t sure if he could make it all the way down into the dungeons with his barely stitch together resolve. Anyone could see through him in this moment, he was completely transparent.

And she wasn’t in the Great Hall.

But Katie Bell was.

And she was speaking with Potter.

Shit.

As if he had shouted her name, Katie’s eyes met his prompting Potter to look over his shoulder and take Draco in. The world was funneling, compressing him into a glass cage. He could already feel the microscopic eyes blaring down at him, already becoming blind from the flashes of overbearing cameras. The spiral was inevitable; his heart was in his throat.

They knew. He knew. This couldn’t be happening.

He quickly broke eye contact and turned on his heel, fleeing the Great Hall and Potter’s accusing glare.

Where could he go? The dungeons were too far, and he was reaching maximum breakdown level fast. Where did one go to fall apart… The lavatory!

With a location in mind, Draco fled up a flight of stairs and tore down the hallway, heading for the Prefects Bathroom. His throat was beginning to close up, and it was getting harder to breath. It was too hot! His skin crawled desperate for some sort of relief. Was this how Ember felt right before a panic attack, he thought as loosened his tie and turned the corner.

Finally, he could see the door. He thrust it open and ran straight for the sinks, thanking Merlin that no one was there. The door thud shut behind him and sealed him from the outside world. He felt his whole body begin to tremble as he started gasping for breath. He was too enclosed despite being left alone in the darkness.

Potter fucking knows, he moaned. He’s gonna know that I’m a failure and that I’m stupid and incompetent and he’s never going to stop pocking holes through my already sinking ship. Merlin, he wished Ember was here.

He awkwardly slung his sweater vest over his head and splashed some cool water on his face hoping that it would calm down his racing heart. He didn’t even feel the tears streaming down his face until they began to collect in the corner of his mouth. He glanced at himself in the mirror. He grimaced; desperately wanting to throw his fist through the glass so that he wouldn’t have to see his own pathetically monstrous face.

But before the thought could truly manifest, he heard the door shut behind him with a deafening thud.

He turned around, frazzled, hoping that Ember had felt his distress and somehow managed to find him here soaked in his desolation.

She hadn’t.

Harry fucking Potter stood in the doorway in all his righteous glory, looking at him with nothing but contempt. He was all accusing eyes and shame riddled implications. The worst part was that he wasn’t wrong.

“I know what you did.” He denounced him, “I know you hexed her. I know-”

Draco didn’t give him a chance to finish his accusatory speech. All pent-up aggression and mounting frustration, he flicked his wand and sent a curse flying towards Potter.  
Potter pressed himself up against the wall, just narrowly avoiding injury, and quickly sent back a rebuttal curse, “Levicorpus!”

Draco dodged and the curse hit the glass mirror, shattering it as he had wanted to do himself not two minutes earlier. He traipsed behind the row of stalls as Potter sent another curse zooming. It hit the sinks at just the right angle to burst the pipes and send water spurting out of the sinks and flooding the floor.

He heard Potter’s shoes clamp across the floor heading towards the opposite side of the stalls. Draco took a quick glance around the corner to see the rounded tip of Harry’s glasses and threw another curse. He heard it crack against the stone wall.

He waited another moment, breathing deeply, before stepping out, waiting for Harry to meet him. When he saw the first sign of movement he began to shout, “Cruci-”

“Sectumsepra!” Harry screamed, the curse hitting Draco flat in the chest.

He stumbled backward as pain rushed to the surface. Blood blasted from his chest and face and with ultimate despair, he let himself fall to the floor onto his back as the blood began to blossom and bleed through his shirt.

Draco once again began to cry. He couldn’t tell if it was from the pain, because there was copious amounts of that, or if Potter hitting him had been the final straw that broke the hippogriffs back. 

And he didn’t care. Let this be the end, please! He plead, just let this be the end.

He wished Ember was here. That he could see her doe eyes looking at him innocently just once more before he succumbed to the overwhelming darkness. Sobs escaped him just at the thought of his wife. He wasn’t strong enough for her, nor his father, or even himself.

As if a miracle was happening, he saw Ember’s face thrust over him like the halo of a goddess. 

“Oh!” He gasped out before devolving into even more ugly sobs. He takes it back. He never wanted her to see him this vulnerable. 

~

“Five points from Ravenclaw Ms. Delmar.” Snape drawled as a tiny third year was trying to contain the sharp-toothed spinning Frisbee without tearing her fingers apart. “Five points from Gryffindor Ms. Jones,” He continued, holding his hand out.

The acne covered Ms. Jones pouted unflatteringly before handing over the box that now contained the rouge Weasleys’ Wizard Fanged Flyer.

Ember almost began giggling at the girl’s expression of clear annoyance. Snape only gave her an extremely unamused look before continuing to walk down the corridor. Ember schooled her face and sashayed to catch up to him.

They had just been down to the hut that was placed at the very edge of the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid had tipped off Snape that several Plimpies were washing up near the shore of the Black Lake. The merpeople had been tying the skinny legs that extended from the fish into knots so the Plimpies couldn’t swim. The Care of Magical Creatures Professor had wept in relief when Ember effortlessly healed the little fishies and thanked her profusely while dabbing his eyes with an enormous handkerchief. She arched a brow at Snape who only rolled his eyes. 

Their evening walk, besides the detour to Hagrid’s Hut, had been relatively nonplused. Ember was glad that Snape had suggested they retire back to his office for the sky had begun to drip slightly in warning. She got the strong feeling that he detested getting soaked by the rain just as much as she did.

They had just made it back to the castle, Snape having just reprimanded the young girls, when they both saw Draco sprinting out of the entrance of the Great Hall and down the corridor.

Both mentor and apprentice paused in their steps. Snape gazed down at her with one eye brow lifted as if she knew why he had been running through the halls like a hurricane. She only shrugged noncommittally before a tense Harry Potter exited the Great Hall following in Draco’s direction with just as much vigor.

Well that could be anything but good.

Snape began moving before her, but she managed to keep up fairly well as their quiet stroll suddenly turned into a rushed gallivant. Snape was practically pushing students out of the way as they rounded the corner, his robes billowing behind him.

They heard a loud boom followed by a muffled scream coming from a door up ahead. Snape thrust open the door to the prefect’s bathroom and rushed inside.

Ember was slower in her approach. An apprehension drained into her stomach as she stood in the entryway. She caught the door as it swung back, the sound of running water splashing against the ground could barely cover up the anguished sobs. She walked into the room as if it was a crime scene. There were strong dents in the walls where spells had collided. Chunks of stone were dropped into the forming puddles on the ground. The mirror on the far side of the room was shattered; only one piece still clinging to its frame. Water was spraying from underneath the sinks, shooting upwards like fountains. Her eyes fluttered down to the ground, where she could just see a patch of bright blonde hair.

She gasped and sprinted before falling to the floor beside a bawling Draco. Her head shook in disbelief. Draco, her rock, her husband, her best friend, was sprawled out on the floor drenched in his own blood. It was everywhere, red and thinned from the water, falling from him in waves till the puddle underneath him was a river of red. She looked over his face, pressing her hands across his cheeks to wipe away gushing blood. She could tell the moment he noticed her because his eyes suddenly went wide and he thrashed up before devolving into heartbreaking sobs. 

“Professor- I didn’t-”

Quick as lightning, Ember turned her torso to look at the panicked Potter. He was looking over the scene, wand still grasped in his hands, his eyes terrified.

“You!” She spat, lifting up from her knees, lips curling over her teeth. “You just can’t leave us the fuck alone, can you? You pompous arsehole!”

“EMBER!” Snape roared at her.

She quickly turned back to Draco. Snape was kneeling beside him, holding his wand aloft and whispering incantations that seemed to be quenching the flow of blood. She fell back to her knees and hastily pushed Snape’s wand out of the way. “I’ve got this,” She told him as she started unbuttoning Draco’s dress shirt.

“Ember, this is too much, let me deal with this.” Snape reasoned impatiently.

Her eyes viciously flashed up to him as she leaned over Draco territorially. “I’ve got this!” She screamed.

“Em…” Draco sobbed deliriously.

It panicked Ember and she fumbled with the buttons that just wouldn’t unbutton. Finally, she just ripped his shirt open and tore through his now red undershirt as well. “I know! I know Drake. I’m here, okay. You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“Potter!” Snape spat pointing a bloody finger at the paralyzed boy, “Go get Pomphrey!”

“We don’t need Pomphrey!” Ember disagreed vehemently as she tenderly placed her palms flat against Draco’s heaving stomach. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, pulling every inch of focus and concentration to her in this hectic disaster.

Her fingers began to glow softly as she located the source, or rather sources, of injury and pain. It pricked against her fingers and she gasped when she felt the pain as if it was her own; sharp and white hot. Her jaw clenched, teeth gritted together harshly.

Snape stared at Ember with apprehension. She was nearly catatonic above her husband and he was quite honestly fearful of what she would do if he dared to interfere any more than he already was. She had never tried to heal another human besides herself, and while he knew this would actually be good practice for her and he was confident that she could heal him, he was afraid of the balance of it all. There was always a give and take in the world and now was not the time to be playing fast and loose with strings of either of their lives.

Harry stared at the three of them petrified. His feet were glued to the floor. It was like watching a muggle horror movie play out in front of him. Except this wasn’t filled with overacted screams of despair. It stared the quiet girl of the shadows drenched in his school nemesis’s blood with hands that glowed and eyes that burned.

“POTTER!” Snape shouted, causing Harry to jump, “Get Pomphrey. Tell her to bring dittany!”

“We don’t need dittany!” Ember stressed, her fierce eyes glaring at her mentor, her fingers not once going dim despite her shift of focus.

Snape stared in awe, at her level of focus and at the quickly closing slashes of flesh, before demanding once more, “Go!”

Footsteps pounded against the splashing water as Harry fled the room. 

“Ember slow down.” Snape cautioned, hands hovering over the couple.

“No.” She spat.

Draco’s sobs had slowly turned into unsteady whimpers. That was all the confidence boost she needed to know that she was indeed mending him.

“Ember, listen to me.” Snape implored, leaning closer to try and catch her eyes, “If you use too much of your energy it could kill you.”

She shook her head; her now wet hair clinging to her neck. Her eyes were fierce but her cheek twinged in response to the pain she was absorbing. Her head began to swell, like a dehydrated spell, demanding her attention.

Snape changed tactics. “You’re doing wonderful Ember, okay? You don’t need to overwhelm yourself. He’s going to be fine.”

She opened her mouth to tell him off once more, but all that escaped was a chocked sob of her own. Her hands trembled as she let her adrenaline wane and her focus shifted to Draco’s relaxing face.

“There, good. Slow, slow…” Snape coached soothingly, and a moment later her fingers had ceased glowing altogether. 

Ember sniffled as she sat there on her knees in a cold puddle staring at the pale bloody mess of her unconscious husband. She crawled to his shoulder and placed his head in her lap. He’s all I have, she thought as she cradled his head, nothing is allowed to happen to him. The continuous spray of water had washed most of the blood away from his face, but she caressed his cheeks anyway to comfort herself.

Snape followed her movements carefully, wary of her mental state, before looking over the expanse of Draco’s torso. There were several slashes of pink, not quite healed, skin; but they were a soft pink and only the larger inflictions were left. Ember had managed to erase all superficial wounds and nearly heal all dyer ones. Snape knew she would have healed them completely too, if he hadn’t stopped her.

Heels clicking and splashing across the floor disrupted the sound of running water. Madame Pomphrey walked towards them with wide eyes and a vial of dittany in her palm. “Severus…” She said his name in question, as she slowly approached.

Ember felt the need to hiss at the unwanted figure, but kept herself calm by brushing Draco’s wet hair off of his forehead.

“I’ve got it handled, Pop.” He responded, reaching for the vial, before noticing the boy hiding behind the healer. “Potter, go wait in my office.” He dismissed.

Harry stared back at the scene, horrified, as Snape unstopped the vial and began littering the exposed skin with drops. Ember had moved to his head, leaned over him as a guardian angel, completely drenched to the bone. Her lips were trembling, eyes hollow, fingers softly combing through his hair.

“Yes professor,” Harry responded before dashing out of the room in a haunted daze.

“Severus he needs to get to the wing…”

“No.” Ember whispered.

“Dear, he needs to be under supervision.” Pomphrey responded placatingly. She was bent over the scene, careful to stay away from the spraying water.

“No.” Ember said stronger slowly lifting her eyes from Draco’s face to the women’s in challenge, “I’ll watch over him.”

Madame Pomphrey looked appalled at the extreme amount of confidence and implications such a statement claimed.

Severus watched the exchange carefully. “Poppy, I’ve got it. He’ll be seen to.”

Pomphrey pursed her lips together baffled, “I want an explanation!”

Snape, incredibly frustrated, stated with a clipped tone, “And I’ll give you one. Later.” 

Pomphrey harrumphed and left annoyed.

Ember looked up to him, her hand drifting down to rest on Draco’s collarbone. “He needs to be with me. In our room, anything else will upset us both.”

Snape’s nostrils flared but he nodded not willing to fight with her. He slowly stood up and flicked his wand allowing Draco to swiftly levitate in the air. He began to walk out of the prefect’s bathroom with the unconscious body following behind him.

Ember blinked the tears away from her eyes and noticed Draco’s black wand lying in the lukewarm water. She picked it up and stashed it in her cloak before following the pair.


	21. The Calm After the Storm

“The doctor says I’m diagnosed with shit days, mistakes, but I’ll be fine. Cause you’re my painkiller. When my brain gets bitter, you keep me close. When I’ve been miserable, and it takes forever to let my brain get better, you keep me close.”  
-Ruel, Painkiller

She had slept in the arm chair. 

She refused to get on the bed while Draco was still unconscious. She didn’t want to accidently jostle him out of his sleep. Rest and time were the best menders and she wanted him completely healed by the time he woke.

The chair had been heavier than she expected and it had taken her a good five minutes to push it towards Draco’s side of the bed. Although, it was uncomfortable for her to sleep with her limbs curled up awkwardly underneath her, head lulled over the side, she doubted that she would have been able to get any rest on the bed.

Her energy was running on empty reserves. Exploiting her gift like that had knocked the wind out of her to where her body was completely lethargic. She would have done it again in a heartbeat knowing that her limbs would become noodles.

She wasn’t sure if Draco’s injuries had been all that deadly but seeing him in that much distress and covered in blood had not presented an encouraging outcome. She had become frantic, primal, possessive; because if there was no Draco, there would be nothing left for her. It hadn’t even occurred to her until Snape left them to the safety of their room that if he had died, she would have died with him. She glanced down at the scrawny scribble of his name inked into her finger and caressed it softly.

He had been out throughout the night and morning. Snape had told her that he was to remain resting for at least two days before he could even consider going back to classes and therefore Ember was excused from her lessons as well.

Once they had been alone, she had finished undressing his torso. There were only a few scars that were still healing; two on his chest and one just to the right of his navel. She had wetted a flannel before scrubbing him of all dried blood till he was clean. It had been methodical and oddly calmed her to see him in one perfectly pale piece.   
The sun was high in the sky when he groaned.

Ember perked up, nervously brushing her knotted hair away from her face. He groaned again, his hand unconsciously moving to pat at his exposed abdomen. She was worried that he was in pain. She fluttered wordlessly over him, concerned. “Draco…” She called, hoping to give him the nudge back to reality.

His eyes blinked open in a foggy daze before they settled on her. His face molded into his classic pout and he gave her a skeptical look through half-lidded eyes. His hands slowly ran across his chest, tenderly fingering the remaining wounds that wouldn’t even truly scar.

It took him a moment; trying to piece back his last few memories. He remembered the battle with Potter and the pain that cut him to the bone. Then the recollections began to blend together like a disconnected dream. He remembered Ember’s face above his like painted stars before hearing her shout at Snape.

“Did you snap at Snape?” He asked groggily.

Oh, how she blushed. She had seen little peaks and glimpses of his unclothed torso when he happened to change his shirt in front of her, and she had been staring and healing his naked chest for the better part of a day and a half, but for some reason him being conscious and knowing that she was seeing him partly naked started a whole new kind of trembling in her tummy. She gulped, keeping as much eye contact as possible without bursting into flames and nodded, “Potter too.” 

That made him feel better and he nodded into his pillows approvingly. Blinking heavily, he tucked his chin and awkwardly tried to peer at his own chest. “Did you…heal me?” He asked dubiously with a very bewildered wrinkle on his forehead.

Once again she nodded. His face smoothed and he reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. She blushed further under his intense gaze. He waited patiently till her eyes shyly met his again before whispering, “Thank you.”

She gave him a soft smile before changing the subject, “How are you feeling? Any pain?”

He sighed tiredly and pushed off his hand to sit up against the headboard, “Sore? Yes. Pain? No.”

“What happened?” Ember dared to ask trying to ignore how his lean muscles shifted at the movement.

“Potter just…put some pieces together. He followed me and confronted me.” He grasped his head and squeezed his eyes shut before running his hand through his hair.

She got up and quickly paced to the pitcher of water left on the coffee table and poured him a tall glass of water. 

She handed him the glass with a twitching upper lip, “And you two blew up a bathroom over it.”

Draco took four long gulps before scrunching his nose. That sounded awful.

He took one more long sip before leaning over and placing the glass on the side table. “How did you and Snape find us?”

“We were heading towards the Great Hall when the two of you tore out of it.”

He nodded. That was valid.

“Snape has him in Saturday detentions for the rest of the year. Means he’s off the Gryffindor Quidditch team for the rest of the season.” She stated casually.

Draco felt some validation in that. He couldn’t play Quidditch and now neither could perfect Potter. That definitely meant that Gryffindor wasn’t going to win the House Cup that year.

She frowned, “Means I won’t get to have my afternoons with Snape,” she grinned up at him, “Guess you’ll just have to keep me entertained instead.”

He laughed, “Is Ember Knight teasing?”

She held up a finger, “Ember Malfoy.”

He grinned and corrected, “Ember Malfoy.”

Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the door. Both of them froze. No one visited them, besides that one unfortunate time Snape pounded on the door. Their door was located at the very end of the dungeon corridor past the Slytherin Common Room’s entrance. The door had always been there years before so no one had thought it could have changed this year. 

Ember scampered around the bed to the door before Draco could advise her otherwise. She opened the door just a crack and peeked out. He became increasingly worried when he saw her tense from his comfy spot on the bed.

She looked back at him indecisively.

“Who is it?” He mouthed. 

She just bit her lip and opened the door wider, revealing a shocked Blaise.

He stood there with the most bewildered expression. Draco was laid out topless on a bed and Ember was anxiously rubbing at her neck, her hair the messiest he had ever seen it. He had always expected that they had something going on, it was the reason he enjoyed teasing the two of them so much, but he certainly wasn’t expecting this.

“Get the fuck in here and stop gawking like a twat,” Draco hissed frustrated. They didn’t need any prying eyes in the corridor finding out what was going on in the room at the end of the hall.

Blaise walked in the room apprehensively, Ember shutting the door behind him quickly. He looked between the two of them stunned, “Is someone going to explain what is going on here?”

“Um…” Draco trailed off, looking to Ember for answers. She just threw her hands up awkwardly and began gnawing on her bottom lip.

“So this is where you’ve been staying all year? Shacking up with her?” Blaise accused waving a hand between the two of them.

“Hey,” Draco berated his tone, “It’s not like that. Come sit and I’ll explain.”

Blaise huffed but followed as directed. “You look like shit.”

Draco scoffed darkly, “Yeah, I know.”

Draco looked over to a concerned Ember, who was now not only chewing her lip off but had decided to start twisting and pulling at her hair. Did she have to attack her best assets? Draco held out his hand and beckoned her forward as well.

Ember slowly placed herself on the corner of the bed, conveniently as far away from him as she could be, and crossed her arms around her torso. He inwardly sighed, but decided not to barter for her to move closer.

“Well get on with it then,” Blaise antagonized.

Draco stared at Ember’s wide eyes once more before deciding to spout out the truth. Blaise was bound to find out the truth eventually anyways; he was far too perceptive to remain in the dark forever. “We’re married.”

Everyone remained silent as the thought settled in the air. Then Blaise laughed; loudly.

“Good one! Now what’s really going on?” His eyes bounced between the two.

Draco stared off to the side before pursing his lips unamused, “That’s the truth. We got married over the summer. Our parents formed an unbreakable vow before she was born for her to marry me to keep the Malfoy bloodline pure.” Draco paused gazing over to Ember, “Should we mention who married us, Em?”

She shrugged, “I mean might as well.”

Blaise stared at them aghast. The conversation flowed so easily between the two in a way that it never had when they were out about the castle. 

Draco shrugged in agreement, “The Dark Lord married us. Oh, and while we’re at it, we’re both Death Eaters.” Draco nodded down to his exposed dark mark, only now becoming aware of his state of undress. Blaise didn’t seem to mind it, they had shared a dorm room for five years, and honestly Draco really liked the fact that Ember did.  
Ember pushed up her left sleeve to reveal her mangled mark as well.

As if the dark marks proved the entire thing to be true, Blaise swore, “Bloody fucking hell…You two have been married this whole fucking time?!” He exasperatedly threw his arms in the air. “You let me take your wife on a date?!” He accused.

Draco rose a finger, “You escorted her.”

Ember blushed fiercely over the squabbling over technicality. 

Blaise turned his full attention on her, “What’s the real story then? Why haven’t you been coming to Hogwarts for years if you knew you were going to be married?”

“Oh I didn’t know we were going to be married until, what was it Drake? Two months before the wedding?” Blaise’s eyes widened even further. “And it’s not a lie. I’m here as Snape’s apprentice; he’s the only one who can really instruct me.”

“So what? You got these sweet digs cause your married?” Blaise took the time to look around the room appreciatively.

“Yeah,” Draco snorted, “Fucking weird. I know.”

“Shit I would have married her to get my own room.” Blaise sent her a wink that only caused her to twist the hem of her dress in her fingers tighter. “So what happened with Potter? It’s all over the school. Everyone’s been scoping out the hospital wing but you weren’t there. Merlin, you should have seen Parkinson!”

“My fault,” Ember piped up. “I wouldn’t let Madame Pomphrey keep him there when we have a perfectly good secluded room here.”

Draco softened at the consideration. She sent him a small smile, understanding his grateful gaze. 

“It was just Potter being Potter. Decided to try and sneak up on me.” Just talking about it caused the anxiety riddled corner of his head to shoot off fireworks as if to remind him that, yes, all his problems were still there. 

“You let him get the upper hand?” Blaise teased.

Draco scowled. “He pulled this curse from fuck knows where. The Mudblood probably found it in some obscure book”

“Mudblood?” Ember questioned.

“Muggle-born,” Draco elaborated off-handily.

Ember frowned, “That’s not very nice.”

Both Draco and Blaise gave her an ‘are-you-fucking-serious’ look, but Ember kept her frown, “Just like when you use to call me a squib.”

Draco glowered as Blaise started cackling, “You called her a squib? She runs circles around us in apparation!”

Ember tried to hold in the smile but Blaise’s laughter at Draco’s expense was contagious. Draco rolled his eyes; he knew he could never pretend to be cross with her when her smile glowed like starlight. 

Blaise’s laugh died down, “Wait. Why would call her a squib in the first place?”

Ember’s palm flew to her face and Draco howled with laughter. “That’s is all yours sweetheart.”

Ignoring the term of endearment to the best of her abilities, she answered Blaise as vaguely as possible. “My parent’s thought I was a squib for most of my life. I just developed later. I have an unconventional education which made it easier to become Snape’s apprentice rather than just another transfer student.”

She tried to think back to a time when she could have possibly presented any sense of magic in her childhood but the more she thought the more a pricking pain throbbed right behind her eyes. 

Draco paused, immediately noticing the change, and began to panic. “Em? You alright?”

She blinked a few times in quick succession, the glaze over her eyes disappearing. “Yeah. Sorry, I think I’m getting a headache.” She began to rub at her temple slowly.

Draco’s frown deepened. Blaise, as perceptive as always, noticed and took that as his cue to depart. “Well, I should be going anyway now that mysteries have been solved.” He stood up from his seat and awkwardly patted Draco’s leg, “Good to see you survived Potter, mate.”

The entire sentence rubbed Draco the wrong way and he scowled in irritation. “Fuck you.”

Blaise only chuckled as Ember got up and followed him to the door. He paused halfway through the doorway and gave Ember a smirk, “If you ever get bored of him, you know where to find me.”

Ember characteristically blushed as Draco threw a pillow as far as he could towards the door. “Zabini!” He growled.

Blaise’s laugh could be heard even after Ember shut the door.

She teasingly glared at Draco as she picked up the befallen pillow and tossed it back onto the bed. “Well now we aren’t the only ones who know.”

Draco waved his hand, “Blaise was gonna figure it out eventually. He’s been speculating all year. Plus, he’s not gonna go blabber to anyone.”

He watched Ember shrug and squeeze her eyes shut.

Fuck. Were these the symptoms his father had warned him about?

“Em, are you sure you’re okay?”

She nodded before wincing. “Yeah. Just haven’t had a headache in a while. I use to get these all the time.”

Shit. Was that a good sign or a bad sign? He hated keeping this from her. It wasn’t right and he didn’t want her to end up resenting him. All they did was gamble with fire now-a-days. But what’s one potentially pissed off wife compared to Voldemort’s wrath?

“Em, come get in bed.”

She ducked her head trying to hide her red cheeks, but Draco noticed, hiding his own smirk at her embarrassment. “You’re still hurt.”

“Am not. Haven’t you heard?” He looked at her smugly, “I have my own personal healer.” 

His lips curled up on one side in a hybrid of a smirk and a smile that Ember was completely powerless against. He could get away with murder with that look. He probably would.

He pouted at her, “You’re not going to make me beg, are you?”

Ember had enough embarrassment at her expense and scrambled to get into the bed before he started trying to woo her- or worse, seduce her. Draco barked out a laugh. 

~ 

The moment he had stopped his teasing and she had gotten comfortable, she had fallen asleep. She had once again reached for his hand and wrapped both her arms around it, cuddling it into her chest. He hated that he couldn’t fall asleep on his side. You see, he was a strictly back or tummy kind of guy but he would sacrifice the sleep to allow her to cuddle his arm anytime. He noticed she usually did it when she was overly exhausted.

Without the boisterous laugh of Zabini or the tiny smiles of Ember distracting him, he quickly fell back into the troubled avenues of his despairing thoughts. It was like he was dropped back into the middle of the maze; not knowing which paths were useful and what paths were treacherous. 

So he had murdered a bird. It wasn’t really the bird that caused his downward spiral. He thought he had it finally fixed (especially after the apple) and to see the white innocent bird dead upon arrival after it stood guard outside his room of hidden things took something deep in his heartstrings and twisted it. He had worked all year in building a house of cards, each layer perfectly balanced and studiously thought out, only to have the very last card cause the whole thing to tumble down.

Was it worth it to rebuild the house or was it always going to crumble?

Draco was smart and he knew he was smart. He was the one who had created this plan. He was the only one who had made it this far. He was the only one who had figured it out. If he didn’t figure out work out the cabinet- there was going to be nothing left. He gazed down at the sleeping girl curled around his arm. He had to find a way to make it work. 

She had surprised him in every way there was to be surprised. She had grown so much this year. From a silent, stuttering, mess to his budding confident, brilliant, best friend who didn’t need him to survive every social situation. He hated to think that all of that progress could be on the edge of a knife. Of course, she would be diagnosed with some egregiously mental disorder when the pressure was pressing down his shoulders. He didn’t have enough of him to give her what she would need if that turned south. They’d both break and that would get them nowhere. No, he couldn’t burden her with this failure; and more importantly, he could do this by himself. He knew he could.

He wouldn’t fail. Some sleep to clear his head and he’d be ready to try again tomorrow. Even if it meant he spent the entire day in that damned room, he was determined to see some results.

He had been so lost in his own thoughts that it took him far longer than it should have to realize that Ember’s thumb was tracing small circles in his wrist that was still clenched in her affectionate talons. She sleepily smiled at him with her eyes still closed as if she could feel his attention return to her face and settle on her lips.

It felt like it had been decades since he last tasted them. Without over thinking it, he pressed forward and connected their lips in a long firm kiss. Her smile widened at this approach and she eagerly returned his affections. She let go of his arm and wrapped her arms around his long neck.

What started off as sweet and playful quickly turned into desire. With his arm now free, he wrapped it around her waist and pulled her so that she was flush against his bare chest. She gasped into his mouth at the feeling and, fuck, he had missed the sounds she made. 

Draco followed his instincts and licked at her bottom lip, hoping to coax her mouth to open and allow him to properly taste her. It took her a few moments to get the message but when she did she parted her lips just enough for his tongue to venture in her mouth. 

She shivered when his tongue met hers and he clenched the fabric of her cotton dress where it rested against the base of her spine. He let his tongue lazily explore and taste every inch of her mouth before generously allowing her hesitant tongue to reciprocate.

They broke apart to catch their breaths for a moment and he brushed her long hair away from her face. Her eyes bore into his as her eye lashes framed all the innocence; ripe and his for the taking.

He gripped her tighter as his lips covered hers again. Growing bold, he shifted so that she was on her back with him hovering over her, laying in between her legs. “Oh!” She gasped.

Oh, indeed, he thought as those perfect legs of hers now caged him in at his hips, pressing him right where he wanted to be. Her dress had bunched up at her waist at the movement and he took the opportunity to run his hand on the outside of her thigh and took a chance to glance at her face. He groaned.

Her cheeks flushed, lips swollen, eyes wide, and hair a mess. He did that. A possessiveness claimed him as he dove for her neck, pressing soft kisses to the warm skin and trailing his nose along her collarbones. Merlin, those collarbones! 

She gasped again and her hands trailed down his back timidly as her legs gripped his waist harder. The hand that wasn’t on her thigh tentatively traced up the side of her rib cage before gently cupping her left breast over her dress. 

He felt her whole body seize up and though she felt amazing like this, panting underneath him, he pulled his hand away and lifted his lips from her neck. The moment he saw her eyes he knew it had been too much too soon. The green was filled with raw panic that tugged at him so deeply that he immediately cuddled her up against his chest and began to soothe her in hushed tones, “Em, it’s okay. That was too much. It’s fine, okay sweetheart? We only go as far as you want to. I promise.”

She shuddered against him in relief and held onto him tighter, desperately needing the comfort he was providing. “I’m sorry,” She whispered lamely.

He loosened his hold so that he could once again see her face, before giving her another lingering kiss and leaning up on his knees, separating them entirely. “Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. I just got carried away.”

She bit her lip and raised herself to lean against the headboard careful to reposition her dress. She noticed the tent that had formed in his pants and quickly tore her eyes away. He was positively doped up in her innocence. She was just too damn cute when she was flustered like this. “I’m sorry!” She repeated, more desperate and embarrassed this time.

He chuckled softly, and even though he was painfully hard he ignored the vulgar appendage to comfort her. “Em, it’s fine.”

She gulped, “But doesn’t that hurt?”

He quickly had a moment of utter horror when the thought of her possibly not even knowing what they were leading up to crossed his mind. It didn’t sit well with him. It didn’t sit well with him at all.

Suddenly much more somber he reached for Ember and switched places with her so she was placed, ever so carefully, in his lap. He supposed it was a good sign that she didn’t pull away from him. “Ember you know about…sex, right?” he asked awkwardly.

Her cheeks burned. “Of course I do.” She mumbled, embarrassed.

Draco breathed a sigh of relief.

She looked up at him, “I’m just not as experienced as you are! I don’t know anything that I’m doing and god Drake every time you kiss me it’s like everything fades away and all I can think about are your lips and your hands-”

And she’s getting him even more riled up. The damn unaware minx!

“Em, Em, Em.” He soothed, to calm her rambling. “I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same way. And I’m not more experienced.”

She quickly pulled back from him too look in his eyes disbelievingly, “Please don’t lie to me.”

He brushed her escaped hair behind her ear. “I’m not. I had one kiss when I was fourteen with this girl when my parents took us on holiday and Merlin that shouldn’t even count as a kiss compared to those kisses by the fire.”

“Really?” She asked timidly, softly twisting the hair at the nape of his neck in her fingers.

He nodded, “Really. No one else ever caught my eye and I found out I was marrying you when I was fifteen. What was the point in trying anything after that? I’d rather embarrass myself with you than look like a fool with a girl I’d have to try to avoid for three more years.”

Ember smiled shyly, “I don’t think you would have looked like a fool…”

Draco grinned at the confidence boost and gave her an appreciative kiss. When he pulled back, he bumped her nose with his lightly, “I forget how much younger you are Em. We’ll go however fast or slow you want to go.”

“I-I liked what you-I-what we were doing. Just slower,” She mumbled out.

Draco took that as an invitation to place his lips back against her throat. 

“Noted,” He whispered into her skin.


	22. The Bitter Pill

“I never knew that everything was falling through. That everyone I knew was waiting on a cue to turn and run when all I needed was the truth.”  
-The Fray, Over My Head (Cable Car)

He couldn’t find his wand. 

He had been searching for twenty blasted minutes and couldn’t find the one thing that allowed him some sense of control and he was spiraling down so fucking fast that he felt like his heart was about to explode.

Ember picked that perfect moment to walk out of the washroom in only her bath robe. Her skin was still pink from the heat of the shower and her hair was damp around her shoulders. He couldn’t help but remember tracing his lips and tongue over the exposed skin of her neck just the night before.

She gave him a curious look and he realized he had been staring for far too long. “What?” She asked.

“Have you seen my wand? I can’t find it anywhere.”

“Oh! I have it. I picked it up off the floor in that bathroom.”

Draco visibly deflated as he sighed with relief, “Thank Merlin.”

“Wait. Why do you need it?” She looked at him skeptically.

He looked at her incredulously, “I got work to do, Em.”

She pouted stubbornly. “But you’re supposed to be resting today.”

“Oh fuck that. I don’t have time to rest Ember. I don’t even have time to be having this conversation.”

His words came out with a frustrated bite that he had not intended and caused Ember to looked down at the floor and curl her arms around herself.

“Shit Em, I didn’t mean it like that. I just can’t sleep another day away. Time is running out.”

She nodded, placing her mask of aloofness on. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s in my cloak pocket.”

She crossed the room to her abandoned cloak and brought out the comforting piece of wood, handing it to Draco without a word.

“Thank you,” He breathed with relief to have it back in his hand, before getting a curious thought. “Perhaps you should try it out.”

She looked at him doubtingly, “I don’t think it would do anything.”

He shrugged, “Nonsense. Have you ever tried it?” He pushed the wand back into her hand.

She bit her lip before reluctantly tightening her hold on Draco’s wand and thinking about what spell she would even try to perform.

“Lumos!” She exclaimed, just a tad over ambitiously. 

The tip of the wand illuminated brightly before abruptly exploding the whole room in overwhelming blinding light. Both Draco and Ember shut their eyes tightly as Ember shouted, “Nox! NOX!”

All light escaped the room, before the enchanted fireplace flickered slowly back to life. Draco looked at her stunned as she shoved the wand back in his hand and backed away.  
“We need to get you a wand.”

She blinked at him as if he was crazy. “No! Did you not just see that?”

He shook his head, “It would be better with your own wand and you could practice control with it.”

“No.” She responded resolutely. “Just drop it.”

He studied her annoyed face for a moment before sighing out, “Fine.”

He pocketed his wand and made for their door. “I’m leaving. I’ll be back late tonight.”

Ember sighed and fell into the chair heavily. She was looking forward to spending the day with Draco, maybe even kissing more than they had the night before. Her lessons with Snape were still put on hold for the day and she was notoriously known for not knowing how to properly utilize free time. 

~

She decided to go about a walk on the castle grounds by herself. She went with the thought of practicing her skills as her usual walks pertained to do, but discovered that she needed the walk to be with her thoughts more. 

She was walking back up the sloped hills by the herbology greenhouse, her fingers curled over the edges of her oversized cardigan, when she saw a familiar blonde. Luna was sitting cross legged on the grass fiddling with her hands, a ball of red yarn in her lap.

“Hello Luna.”

She looked up, bringing her hand up to cover her eyes from the glaring sun, and smiled. “Oh, hello Ember.”

“Would you mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.”

Ember sat nimbly on the soft grass beside her. She looked pointedly at Luna’s strange apparatus, “What are you doing?”

Luna smiled at her strangely as she continued to loop yarn around a long rod, “I’m knitting Ginny a new scarf. She was complaining that Seamus blasted a hole through her old one.”

“Ginny? Seamus?” 

“Oh Ginny Weasley and Seamus Finnigan, both Gryffindors.”

“How long have you knitted?”

“Oh, I’ve been knitting since I was a young girl.”

Ember placed her hands in her lap; wondering mildly why she hadn’t ever picked up a hobby besides reading. She could now see the almost half finished clump of scarf in Luna’s lap. She’d seen the familiar pattern in clothing around the school in sweaters, scarves, and mittens. She didn’t think she’d ever had something handmaid before. She never thought she’d seen her mother doing the strange hobby.

“Is Draco okay?” Luna asked after a moment, her sapphire eyes fleeted to Ember for a moment before returning back to her knitting. “Harry was a wreck yesterday. His aura was completely dark silver.”

Ember scowled. “He was probably just annoyed that he cost the Gryffindors their seeker,” She said bitterly, not wishing to discuss Harry. It gave Luna great pause for Ember wasn’t one to respond so negatively.

“I think he truly felt remorseful.” Luna said sincerely, continuing to loop the yarn into knots. “They have a history of things like this. It’s never ended quite like that…”

Ember shrugged, wanting very much not to think about Harry Potter or the incident. “Draco is fine.”

“That’s good.” Luna smiled again and returned her attention to Ginny Weasley’s scarf.

Had Ember ever had a friend so nice to ever think of making her something handmade simply because she needed it? Ember tried to recall any of her friends from her old school but kept coming up blank besides the names Beatrice, Jane, and Claire. She couldn’t even remember their faces. When was the last time she had thought about them?

“You do that a lot,” Luna commented.

Ember looked at her curiously, “Do what?”

“Get that look on your face. It’s like you’re extremely confused- or amazed, I can’t quite decide between the two. I’m sure your mind is riddled with wrackspurts.”

I made a face? She must have for it to warrant such a comment.

“Wrackspurts?” She questioned.

“They’re invisible and float in through your ears. They make you feel very confused and unfocused. Honestly you might have an infection of them. I always sense them when you’re near. I wish I brought my spectrespecs so I could see them. If you think happy thoughts, it usually clears them.”

Ember blinked. If she had been making a face enough for Luna to comment on it, why hadn’t Draco, or even Snape, ever brought it to her attention? Luna was a strange girl, but she was astute and never had malicious intent. She wouldn’t lie about something so bizarre.

“Like the tale, Mrs. Hidenberg and her Fancy Friends? Didn’t your parents ever read that to you?”

Ember tried to evoke a memory of her parent’s ever reading to her. She didn’t think anyone had ever read to her before. Then how did I learn to read?

“Do you remember how you learned to read?” She blurted out.

Luna’s face puzzled for a moment before responding, “Vaguely I suppose. What an odd question. Yeah, I believe I started to learn when I was four.”

The spot behind her eyes started to throb again. Why couldn’t she remember something so simple? Why couldn’t she remember anything? She suddenly felt very tired.

“There’s the face again,” Luna explained.

Ember paled. The more she thought about it, the more she felt as if she was being duped and that there had to be some sort of explanation. She stood up purposefully. “I think I’m going to see if I can bother Professor Snape. I’ll see you later.”

“Remember,” Luna called just as Ember was about to pass, “Think happy thoughts.”

Ember furrowed her brow; she never seemed to have many of those. “Thank you, Luna.”

~

Severus was stunned when the door to his classroom roughly banged into the wall. In fact, he had turned around with his face enraged, prepared to verbally dispose of the idiot who would dare disrupt his tutoring sessions, and stopped short when he saw Ember standing in the doorway her chest heaving with panicked breaths; her eyes crazed.  


That look could mean anything, but he had an unsettling thought of what it was.

“You are all dismissed.” He called out.

The children looked between the intruder and their supervising professor with mild confusion. Professor Snape had started a tutoring program for students that needed improvement. He enlisted his older students to tutor the younger pupils for extra credit. Many took him up on his offer- including Blaise. The students began to gather their materials and walk cautiously by the statued intruder.

“Zabini,” Snape called not taking his eyes off the frenzied girl, “Best if you get Mr. Malfoy up here.”

Blaise looked to Ember. Her eyes were flickering between emotions so quickly that it was giving him whiplash. He nodded his head, gathering his bag of materials, and flew out the door in search of his friend. The door shut equally as verbal as it had been opened.

The sound seemed to take all the wind out of her sails and her shoulders slumped. She just felt cold, tired, and so very confused. Snape looked at her with delicate eyes. “Ember, why don’t you come sit down,” He suggested.

“Somethings wrong.” She countered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I know. Come sit and let’s talk about it.”

He wished that they were in his office or at least the potions classroom so that he might have been able to give her a calming drought to help relax her. He was going to have to rely to his short string of patience and hope that Zabini would find Draco soon.

“You know?” She accused with a slight bite, “You know what?”

“Let’s wait for Draco to get here,” He suggested, sliding a chair out from a desk and offering her a seat.

“Why do we need to wait for Draco? Blaise will never find him.”

“What do you mean he’ll never find him?” 

Ember suddenly gasped and squeezed her eyes tight. “What do you know?” She moaned out. “I can’t remember anything. Nothing at all. It’s not normal. Something is missing. Why is there a piece of me missing?”

Snape was flailing his hands like a mother hen, trying to get Ember to sit down before she burned out and flat lined right there on the ground. In a desperate attempt, he resorted to legilimency. He pushed into her mind only to receive a hard defense and a scream of outrage from Ember.

“Don’t you dare try to push into my mind!” Her eyes were green fire, lips pulled into a sneer. She took two deliberate steps toward him until she was an arm’s length away. “Is that what caused this? Have you been screwing with my mind Snape? Left that out of your lessons, did you?”

She was gone. Completely tossed over the deep end and drowning in a web of questioning. There would be no talking her down from this. There would be no easy fix. The fuse had already been lit and there would be no retreating. 

“Sit down,” He hissed. He’d had enough of her accusations that did exactly what she was aiming for- pissing him off.

Maybe it was his tone or the pounding of her head but she stomped her foot into the ground in a defying manner. Her fists clenched at her side, stomach suddenly rolling in a strange form of vertigo.

He pinched the bridge of his nose at the juvenility of it all.

“Please.” She begged, face softening in a desperate plea for an explanation. “What’s wrong with me?”

He pursed his lips as he looked down at her glassy eyes that only searched for the truth. His chest constricted as he let himself pity her. This girl was born of selfish needs, for the guiles of others, and literally had nothing to call her own; not even her thoughts.

“You know of memory charms…” He began with great hesitance. 

She caught on quickly, blinking rapidly. “You think someone obliviated me?”

He tilted his head, jaw clenching. “Not just someone Ember…”

She shook her head not following. An ache formed in the center of her chest, making it hard to breathe.

“We’ve noticed your forgetful tendencies as I’m sure you’ve just now realized. There are some things that you should be able to know. Words missing from your vocabulary, absent expressions with uncalculated coverings.” He slowly took a step forward as her breathing picked up, afraid that she might faint. “It is no doubt a consequences of consistent memory charms. The only reasonable explanation is that it was the work of your father.”

Her eyes beseeched him. The confusion remained, but instead of glazed eyes and distant looks it was shown in ragged breaths and turns of the head. “N-No.” She stammered stubbornly, “How could you know it was him?”

“Your father was gifted with charms. Lucius does not deny it.” He took another cautious step forward, preparing for her to collapse. “Besides, who else would have had the opportunity to consistently tamper with your memories?”

“No! He wouldn’t do that!” She denied, even though the truth was written over her face. 

Severus took a deep breath and hunched over slightly. His intimidating height diminished as his eyes became level with hers. “Ember, tell me, how much do you remember from before this summer?”

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. She shook her head violently. He could see the heartbreaking click of information in her eyes. He reached a hand out towards her shoulder to ground her, but she batted him away. “No!” She screamed. “You can’t just do that! You can’t just take someone’s memories! You can’t! It’s not possible! You can’t manipulate a person like that!” She vented. Her feet stumbled backward, until her back slammed into the wall, jolting her head. 

She looked at him, with his hands held tentatively in between them, as if she had never seen him before. His chocolate eyes softened empathetically as her mind glitched. She tore her gaze from his overwhelming eyes and quickly scanned their surroundings. She chocked on the air caught in her lungs, deciding that she didn’t know where she was, how she got there, or who the strange man was.

Her frightened eyes returned to him as tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes. Her hands clutched at her throat as she gasped for breath. 

“Take a deep breath,” He urged softly. This was exactly what he was afraid of happening and he hated to admit that he was ill-prepared for it. 

He tried a gentler approach to push into her mind, hoping to soothe in any way that he could.

“NO!” She howled as she felt a hand grasp into her mind.

He could only see in through a crack in her subconscious exterior as he cradled her mind in his. A cloud of mist was washed over all her thoughts. Neurons shot through the fog like lightning behind clouds at an alarmingly rapid pace. He couldn’t make out a coherent thought. He retreated immediately before he gave himself a headache.  
Ember began to glow erratically as she slumped down to the floor. Her normal white patronus was tainted blue as it waved around her body uncontrolled. She cried in agony, shutting her eyes indefinitely, and roughly grabbed chunks of her hair.

He knelt down in front of her before reaching a hand to her tense fist. The moment his skin touched hers, he felt a jolt of electricity flow down his veins. He was trapped in her electrical current for a violent moment before he instinctually pulled away. He waited a moment, catching his breath, before hesitantly reaching out again only to receive the same painful reaction.

She quickly began to hyperventilate. Ugly, gut-wrenching, sobs tore out of her throat as salty tears soaked her cheeks. It was becoming abundantly clear that he wouldn’t be able to talk her down from this insanity induced panic. Still, he tried.

“Ember…” He whispered gingerly. “Ember breathe. I can help but you need to breathe.”

He felt utterly useless as his apprentice literally fell apart before him. The lights in the classroom began to flicker unsteadily. He resituated himself so that he was sitting more comfortably. She had to ride this out on her own, but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t try to help her control her breathing until Zabini could find her husband.

~

Draco approached the decrepit cabinet with a new aggression; a new determination.

He had picked up the lonely black bird from its’ cage. Its feet tickled the palm of his hand as he held it, waiting to be granted entrance to the Room of Requirement. He gently stroked down it’s fragile back as he weaved his path towards the cabinet. He wouldn’t fail this time. He wouldn’t kill this bird.

He focused on the bird for one more moment before he opened the cabinet and placed the bird inside. It had hoped off Draco’s palm and chirped politely staring up at him with blinking black eyes. He wouldn’t fail.

He focused easily. It didn’t always have to be such an exhausting process. In fact, it was much easier to approach it as if it was a relaxing meditation and not the ticket to his liberation. He wouldn’t fail.

He let his eyes close and his thoughts drift into a gentle chant.

Harmonia Nectere Passus. Harmonia Nectere Passus. Harmonia Nectere Passus.

The chirping stopped.

He breathed in deeply as he reopened the cabinet to see that, yes, the bird was gone. He didn’t let the shiver of delight break his focus though. He had been this far before. It had been the return journey that had sealed the white dove’s fate. He wouldn’t fail.

He shut the cabinet back and slipped back into focused breathing.

Harmonia Nectere Passus. Harmonia Nectere Passus. Harmonia Nectere Passus.

He waited for a moment with bated breath. He reached his hand out towards the cabinet expecting another carcass when a quiet chirp shouted his redemption. Not believing his ears, he opened the cabinet and had to duck slightly as the bird flew over his head before settling on top of a leaning tower of Knick knacks. 

He hadn’t failed.

His face broke out into pure glee; elated laughter escaping his throat. The bird chirped down as if agreeing before ruffling its feathers. Adrenaline zoomed through Draco’s veins and a relief so great whooshed through his chest. He, a seventeen-year-old boy, had done the impossible- and just in time.

He left the bird, not taking the time to recapture the bird in his excitement. With a spring in his step, he floated up towards the Owlery to retrieve Ivan, his eagle owl. He quickly scrawled a letter, with a hidden message, to his mother to prepare the Death Eaters that any day now the plan would be put into effect. 

Now he would only have to bide his time and wait for the coin to bring news of Dumbledore’s absence. Then, he would make history in the name of his family.

~

Blaise had looked everywhere for the blonde bastard. He had checked the dungeons, the common room, the Great Hall, the courtyard, he even checked the couple’s private room. He told the crew to send Draco down to the dungeons if he perhaps showed up for dinner, while he patrolled the dungeons.

When forever had begun to border on never, Draco tapped down the stairs. Blaise was on him quicker than a snitch and had Draco’s vest pinched in his fist in no time at all.  
Draco was appalled. Where did Zabini get off thinking he could man handle his pristine appearance? 

“Where in the fuck have you been?” Cool and collected Blaise was nowhere to be found as he hissed in his face. 

Draco shoved him off, his great mood quickly devolving into agitation. “What’s it to you where I’ve been?”

Blaise glared at him, gesticulating wildly, with eyes made of daggers. “What’s it to me? To me? I’ve only been searching for you for hours! Ember came bursting in on Snape’s tutoring session looking completely fucking mental and Snape sent me to find your dumb arse!”

Draco’s world grinded to a halt at the concern filtering through Blaise’s eyes. “Fuck.” He breathed, knowing exactly what that must mean. “Fuck!’ He shouted before turning on his heel and tearing back up the stairs.

~

He paused with great trepidation when he got just outside the classroom door. He was terrified of what he would find on the other side. All his feelings of elation were tossed out. Would Snape have been able to calm her? Would she know just what her father had done to her? Would she even be lucid enough to notice him?

He pushed the door open and was puzzled when he didn’t immediately see the pair inside of the classroom.

“Draco,” Snape called.

Draco started and looked behind the door he had opened. There in the very corner he saw the incandescent trembling figure of Ember sat on the floor. Snape, a man he had never seen lower himself to anyone, was sat adjacent to her. His eyes were hollowed out with his forearms casually resting on his bent knees. 

“Em…” He whispered, but got no reaction from her. She was curled into a shivering ball with unfocused red-rimmed eyes. Tears steadily flowed down her cheeks like cascading waterfalls. 

He met his professor’s eyes. “What happened?”

Snape stood up from his spot and slowly approached him. He crossed his arms and kept an eye on the mess of a girl over his shoulder. “She knows. She came bursting through the door, positively crazed and demanding answers. Something must have tipped her off. She was in pain but now she’s just nonrespondent. I don’t think she’s aware of anything. She hasn’t said anything in a while…”

Draco stared at the ghost of Ember. Blue light encased her in flickering starlight; like her body was lamenting on its own. “How long has she been like this?”

“A few hours, at least. Where have you been? I was sure Zabini would be able to find you.” Snape’s eyes hardened with a sense of betrayal. 

Draco half-heartedly glared at the man. “I was succeeding actually. I came as soon as I found Blaise.”

Severus sighed. “I’m going to go collect some droughts. Stay with her- talk to her, but don’t touch her.” He warned as he made way to leave.

“Why?” Draco asked cautiously.

Snape’s hand paused at the door handle. His lips pulled up into a smirk as he glanced back to Draco. “She electrocuted me when I tried. I believe she’s cleverly been keeping things from me.”

Snape left the tense room in Draco’s hands with a dark chuckle.

He sat down in the space Snape had left and took a moment to look in her unmoving eyes. It was quite unnerving. Such beautiful eyes that he had always admired were all but lifeless as they stared through him.

“Em?” He called, his voice sounding far off even to his own ears. “Sweetheart? Can you hear me?” Her stone eyes remained glazed. He reached out to grab her hand before remembering Snape’s warning and sighed. His eyes flickered over her face. She was beautiful in this vulnerable state. Her skin had paled considerably, contrasting her rose, slightly chapped, lips and emerald eyes gorgeously. He gently lifted his hand to her cheek, hovering it over her skin in the glowing light that was surprisingly warm. He caressed her through the space between their skin as if she would be comforted by the closeness alone. Her eyes stayed unblinking, breath slowing whooshing out her lips. Where are you Em? He thought sadly.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there unwilling to let his hand fall out of her delightful glow. Snape eventually strode back through the door with two different vials and knelt down in front of them. 

“Ember. You need to drink this.” He announced as he unstopped the vial with purple liquid and pressed it towards her lips.

“What is it?” Draco asked unsure.

“It’s just a calming drought. It will help her nervous system. This is her form of shock but its pushing her past her limits. If we calm her down, we might be able to understand the state of her mind better. If not, she’ll have to go to St. Mungo’s.”

Draco gulped, fear clutching his heart. “No. She can’t go there.”

Snape took a moment to stare at the alarmed boy. “We might not have a choice.”

Draco shook his head disbelievingly before turning compassionate eyes back to his wife. “He’ll kill her. If she’s broken, he’ll just kill her.”

“All the more reason to get her calm and under control.” Snape replied and tipped the purple vial into Ember’s open mouth.

She swallowed it easily enough. She blinked slowly before seeming to understand that Draco was in front of her. 

“Draco?” She whimpered.

He shifted closer. “I’m here.” He soothed, “You’re okay.”

Her lip began to tremble as she stared back into his eyes. “No I’m not.” 

Draco’s face fell. He didn’t know what to do. He was useless against the emotional pain she was experiencing. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what she was going through, if her brain had even let her grasp the gravity of the situation. His fingers finally touched her face. The shocking sting of an electrical bite immediately flew through his limb and he retracted his fingers with a hiss. 

A terrible sob ripped from her throat as she stared helplessly at Draco. His hand turned into a fist as he recognized the look on her face as the same one he had seen in his own reflection the day before yesterday. His chest constricted painfully, wanting now more than ever before to hold her. If he could just hold her, he could make it all go away.

“Breathing exercises Ember.” Snape coached, trying to prevent another panic attack.

She breathed in deeply and exhaled shakily a few times before her patronus faded back into her skin. Draco wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her. She sunk into his embrace, weeping into his neck. He brushed her hair with nimble fingers as he cradled her against him. He whispered soothingly into her ear not caring that Snape could probably hear him. 

“Hold her tight.” Snape whispered evenly over the sound of her cries.

“Why?” He asked suspiciously, his grip tightening protectively.

“Just do it,” Snape hissed and pushed himself back in her mind.

Ember cried out and began to thrash in Draco’s hold. “No! No! Stop it!” She wailed desperately.

“Snape! STOP IT! You’re hurting her!” Draco yelled as a tortured Ember clawed at his shoulders.

Despite the distractions, Snape pushed through. There was no defensive barrier, as if all posts had been abandoned. In fact, her mind seemed as clear as it ever was. There was no ominous fog; no strange lightning flashes. The web of her mind seemed to be wound tighter, but other than that he found nothing as worrisome as his attempts earlier in the night. He exited her mind smoothly only to face Draco’s murderous glare to which he ignored.

“Ember. Do you understand what has happened?” He asked once her sobs had faded back to sniffling.

Her head rested comfortably on Draco’s shoulder facing the professor. Her arms had long been trapped to Draco’s chest as she sat in his lap with his arms encasing her in safety. “My memories are gone- or altered. Or both.” She whispered shakily. 

“What happened this summer?” He prodded.

She gulped, her eyes feeling heavy. “My parents abandoned me. I found out about the wizarding world. I got married.”

Snape studied her tired, but engaged, eyes with relief. “Would you like to sleep?” He offered.

She nodded, nuzzling deeper into Draco’s shoulder. Snape unstopped the second vial and brought it to her lips. She gulped it down eagerly. A moment later her eyes closed and she slumped further into Draco’s arms.

Snape and Draco stared over her body at each other for a long moment. “This is going to change everything for her, isn’t it.” Draco stated, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

Snape stared at his apprentice with soft eyes. “It’s best to let her sleep for now. No one knows the full effects of memory altercations, but yes she’ll probably have some sort of identity crisis whenever she wakes.”

Draco sighed and closed his eyes.

“But perhaps she’ll surprise us all,” Snape added softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment? Please? I hope you're enjoying it so far.
> 
> Also, having severe trouble with italicization on this platform. So bear with me as I try to fix it.


	23. The Monster Behind the Clouds

“There’s no sunshine this impossible year. Only black days and sky grey and clouds full of fear. And storms full of sorrow that won’t disappear.”  
-Panic! At the Disco, Impossible Year

He woke groggily from a dreamless sleep and reached blindly for Ember only to feel the coolness of the sheets. Panicking, he sat up, his bones creaking loudly. His eyes scanned the room quickly before settling on her figure sitting in front of the great windowed wall. 

“Em,” He called. She was silhouetted perfectly by the moonlight shimmering through the water of the Black Lake and the glass of the window. He thought that she might not have heard him, but a moment later she looked over her shoulder and met his eyes. He expected to see fear, confusion, hell even anger. Instead she just looked sad. Not the kind of sad that called for tears and sobs that wracked the body, but the kind of sad that you felt deep in your bones; a type of sadness that could only truly be distinguished by the only windows to the soul we possess. 

She just looked at him, waiting to see if he would ask her a question. A quiet settled over the room and she returned her gaze to the glittering lake out the window.  
Draco tossed his legs over the side of the bed and padded across the floor, only stopping to grab the soft throw that hung over the back of one of the chairs. When he reached her, he draped the blanket around her shoulders and sat silently on the floor beside her. 

He didn’t want to force her to talk about it, and honestly he didn’t even know what to say. He was just grateful that she hadn’t woken up scared and unaware.

Him sitting there beside her brought her comfort enough though. Her fingers curled around the soft blanket over her shoulders. She stared up where she could see the waning moon through the dark water as if it would give her any answers. “I’m sorry if I woke you,” She whispered. 

Draco shrugged. It had taken him a long time to feel comfortable enough to fall asleep. After he brought her back to their room and tucked her into bed, he had paced for a while, watched her dreamlessly sleep for a while, before deciding that she was drugged up enough for him to take a small nap. Apparently, he had been wrong. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Snape said that you knew. Why didn’t you tell me?”

The question wasn’t with a bite or an accusation. Pure curiosity dripped from her lips and he couldn’t blame her questioning.

He sighed. “I wanted to. He thought that it would be worse for you mentally if it was intentionally catalyzed. He was afraid of causing any more damage. We both knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

She nodded once, bringing the blanket around her shoulders just a bit closer to her chest.

“How…how are you?” He asked lamely.

She chuckled humorlessly. “My head hurts and my chest…” She sighed, not wanting to explain just how hollowed she felt. “I’m not crazy; if that’s what the two of you thought.”  
He tisked tilting his head to the side. “You were acting a bit strange there for a minute.” He chuckled lightly. He quickly noticed his attempt at joking was not well received and coughed. “I guess that’s allowed though, it is a bit of a… shock. How did you figure it out?”

“I was with Luna. We were just talking but she was asking questions that I couldn’t remember the answers to and then she mentioned my face…” Draco nodded, completely understanding the way her face would change when she was trying to recall something that just wasn’t there. “I knew that if she was noticing something, you and Snape must have been noticing it as well and not telling me. I figured Snape could give me more answers so I went there…and he helped connect things for me.”

“What’s it like?” He asked curiously. “Can you remember anything before last summer?”

“It’s strange.” She said slowly before becoming silent. “I Imagine it’s like a book with random pages torn out and certain paragraphs missing but the story still makes sense. It doesn’t make you question it. Whenever I try to think of something specific it’s like my mind is filled with cotton. If I think too hard it becomes painful- like I was conditioned not to go looking.” She sighed deeply. “It’s probably why I never realized something was wrong.”

Draco scratched the back of his neck slowly. “Snape said that more than likely he would have just replaced memories with created ones. Not wiped everything clean.”

Ember shrugged, “Then how am I ever going to know what is real and what is fabricated?” She pulled her legs into her chest and wrapped the blanket around her tightly. “I could have been an entirely different person. I can’t remember where I lived. I can’t remember my old school. I can’t remember my friends. I can’t remember anything too specific. All I can remember is that I read, a lot. My parents moved us, a lot. They never treated me like I was a person. They treated me like a piece of luggage they had to carry with them wherever they went. 

“Who knows if I ever really went to school? What if all of that was a lie? What if I was always around my parents? I can’t really remember anything else. And why? Why would they do this to their own daughter? I’ve only ever been a burden. A burden to my parents and a burden to you…”

“Hey…” He whispered roughly. “You’re not a burden.”

“Don’t you see?” She rushed out, all of her emotions leaking out of her unbidden. “I was never wanted. I was a loop hole! Something to trade that had no further value than to bare pureblooded children for a race that I didn’t even know I was a part of.” She spat, her voice gradually raising in volume the more she vented. “Why did they hide magic from me? Even if I couldn’t do it? What was the point?” She shook her head. “They ignored me. Every question I ever asked was ignored. I was so much of a burden that I couldn’t even be spoken to.” She licked her lips and threw her head back disdainfully. “Who goes out of their way to erase someone’s memories? Why can memories even be erased?! I’ll never know what happened. I’ll never know. I shouldn’t even be a person. I should just be some trinket that you take out at parties when you need a good story. They should’ve just transfigured me into a handkerchief and saved me the pain.” She drew in a shaky breath. “It hurts Drake. It hurts to know that I was never loved. That I was never wanted. That I can be erased that easily.” 

Draco grabbed her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes. “Listen to me.” His eyes burned blue with stubborn disbelief. “You are not a burden and you are not useless. I don’t know why your parents thought so little of you, but it doesn’t matter.” He gulped roughly, feeling his boiling blood coil dangerously in the pit of his stomach. “It doesn’t matter if you used to be someone else. It doesn’t matter if you never remember. That is all in the past.” He let his grip on her chin loosen as the back of his hand glided over her skin before cupping her cheek. “What matters is that you go on and make new memories. That you protect yourself so that they can never be taken from you. Ember, you have more now than you ever had before. 

“You have magic. You have your abilities. You have new friends. You have a place here. And you have me. I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, his thumb caressing the underside of her jaw lovingly. “Alone together remember?” He asked rhetorically. His brows arched as a mischievous smile curved his lips. “I want you. I couldn’t have survived this year if it weren’t for you. You’re so bright Ember. Don’t let something like this burn you out.”

She flung the blanket off her shoulder as she hugged him to her tightly. Her heart pounded in her chest as he draped his arms around her. No one had ever talked about her like that; said so many nice things to her. When someone lived long enough without a genuine compliment they were left with an empty level of communication. She trembled against him as a wall, that she didn’t even know existed, crumbled in the wake of his smile.

He gasped as Ember buried her head into his chest and hugged him so tightly like he was the only thing keeping her on the ground. He hummed gently as she melted into him.

The force that tethered them together transformed from a flexible string to strong iron. 

~

She went to Snape the next morning before he had the chance to knock on their door and demand to check on her himself.

She was a bit wobbly with sore eyes and pale cheeks, but in her eyes, there was a surety that calmed his nerves. She took a seat silently in what had become her chair and he moved to pour her a cup of already brewing tea. He passed her the cup and she took a sip gratefully.

She sank into the chair with a sigh and gazed at him not hiding her exhaustion. He regarded her coolly. He knew that their relationship went deeper than just teacher and pupil. Spending hours with her on the ground while she sat trembling and broken the night before only highlighted that fact. He had grown to care for her in the way one does when they spend every day in their company comfortably. 

He knew that she liked to read till her eyes could not focus. He knew that she preferred to walk on his right compared to his left. He knew that if she hadn’t slept well, her hair would be half up and out of her eyes. He knew that if her eyes weren’t watching him that she was comfortable.

She knew how he liked his tea, one sugar with a splash of honey. She knew that he was more likely to take her considerations better in the morning than in the evening. She knew that he became sassy when he was annoyed or frustrated and that it rarely ever had anything to do with her. 

He was more comfortable around her than he was with most others. Perhaps it was the way she showed him unwavering respect. Perhaps it was how they tended to learn on the same wave lengths. Perhaps it was the fact that she was branded just the same as him. It was oddly comforting after years of having no one in Hogwarts, besides Dumbledore, that knew what he did in his spare time and who he associated himself with. That there was another reluctant Death Eater in the castle brought him a form of camaraderie that he didn’t have with anyone else. 

He felt for her and his distaste for her lazy father only multiplied as the days passed. She’d never done anything to deserve the fate handed to her. She had been locked in a box six feet in the ground only to be excavated by the wills of others. He knew the hole she was in well. The only difference being that he had put himself in that position where she had not.

“Do you think I could get better?” She whispered quietly, without hope despite her words.

He raised a brow in question.

“Do you think that I could eventually remember? Or is it all just…gone?” She elaborated.

He took a long sip of his tea. “I think that with your exceptional healing abilities it could be possible that your mind could heal itself overtime and perhaps you could regain some memories. The mind is difficult; memory charms are hard to understand as the consequences are circumstantial. Maybe it is that your memories are just hidden rather than gone. Maybe they are completely erased. You might never know the answer.”

She nodded and avoided his eyes. It was the answer she expected but it did nothing to help the chill that had settled in her already cold bones.

“It’s best if you don’t go searching for them.” He discouraged, placing his tea down and leaning his elbows on the desk. “It could lure you down the roads to insanity.”

“I feel as if I’ve already gone insane,” She confessed. “It’s not even that I miss the memories. It’s more of I’m angry that it could happen. What if an important part of me that makes me me is gone. How do I make any decisions without questioning everything?”

“You’ve been making decisions this entire year. Just because memories are gone doesn’t mean your person has changed. If obliviating allowed a person to reconfigure another’s base personality it would happen far more than it does.”

~

She left Snape’s office feeling only slightly reassured when a disgruntled Harry Potter stopped just before her, heading for the ex-potions master’s office. She met his eyes with a sigh and pursed her lips before avoiding his gaze altogether and trying to move around him. She was far too exhausted to entertain the idea of having an encounter with him.

Any chance of avoiding an ever-persistent Harry evaporated when he hesitantly called, “Ember.”

She stopped, only because she was half way around him in the corridor and his eyes were penetrating her, and for the fact that she had labeled him as insistent and didn’t want to get into another scuffle with him. She kept a reasonable distance between them, not wanting to be unnecessarily grabbed. Something Harry took notice of immediately.

“Harry,” She acknowledged.

He shifted on his feet, feeling pressured under the weight of her guarded gaze. “I wanted to apologize for what happened before Christmas…”

She regarded him curiously.

“It’s wasn’t appropriate or fair to you.” He continued, as if he had been practicing the words for days. “I don’t know the depth of your relationship with Malfoy and I shouldn’t have assumed so…harshly and for that I apologize.”

His apology was truthful and she accepted it with a nod in gratitude. He opened and closed his mouth for a few moments before deciding that he couldn’t conduct a constructive conversation more than that with her. She felt differently.

“Not going to apologize for what you did to Draco?” She called as he began to move further down the hall.

He paused, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists at his side. “I didn’t realize that I need to apologize to you for that,” He answered brazenly.

She tilted her head at the unconcerned boy. “You don’t. Doesn’t mean Draco doesn’t deserve one. You could have killed him.” She reminded him coldly.

He swallowed roughly, noticing that her face was made of unfazed stone. “He wouldn’t accept or hear an apology from me.”

Ember nodded, weighing that truth in her mind. “Still, doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve one. Goodbye Harry.” She continued to glide down the hall without another glance at the boy.

He stared after her long after she disappeared.

~

She spent the majority of the day in the library, but couldn’t quite focus enough on the words of the books in front of her with all the rattled thoughts in her mind.

Though Snape had strongly advised that she not dwell on her disappeared memories it was much harder to ignore than he realized. She was trying to digest it in the healthiest way possible, but it was difficult. Draco’s words from the early hours of the morning that wafted a sense of comfort around her had long vanished leaving her feeling more cold and alone than ever before.

She looked back to all that had happened since the last summer. She hadn’t grasped that she hadn’t absorbed all that occurred. One thing always flitted into the next in a carousel that never stopped turning and she had never halted to reflect. It was always forward, always something else around the corner, always fighting for the future rather than contemplating the past. She couldn’t decide if that was the way she felt or the way she was told to feel. 

Looking around the library, she noticed that it was packed more than usual. It was probably due to the fact that the end of term was nearing and the students had finals or O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s to study for. She grimaced upon realizing that her own final would be just around the corner. She felt that she was prepared enough to please the Dark Lord but she loathed to think of herself becoming a tool to help murder and plague the world. 

More than ever she thought of running away. If her father had managed to do it for so many years, then possibly she would be able to as well. Or maybe she could approach Dumbledore and plead for his help, for his support, for his protection. But she came to the same conclusion she always did when she let her thoughts get too hopeful- Draco would never agree. She couldn’t bear the thought of being without him, even if it would ease her conscious. They had promised to be alone together. Even though she was currently feeling more alone than together.

When the sun was high in the sky, with her thoughts still lashing against her conscious, she joined Luna for a small helping of pumpkin soup that she couldn’t manage to stomach. If Luna noticed Ember’s dreary exterior she didn’t mention it. She smiled to her as kindly as ever and let Ember help her study for her potions final. It brightened Ember if only a little to quiz the eclectic blonde. It gave her a brief respite from her own issues.

And when she parted from Luna outside the doors of the Great Hall it was with a sincere smile and a wish of good luck.

She returned to their room surprised to find Draco buzzing around anxiously. He was dressed out of school uniform or any of the casual clothes he owned. He had donned all black; black dress pants, black dress shirt, with a black blazer on top. His hair gelled back to gleaming perfection.

“What are you doing?” Ember questioned upon entry. 

He paused his movements, twiddling his wand around his fingers, his eyes charged with misplaced enthusiasm. “It’s going to happen tonight.”

A stone of dread dropped into her nearly empty stomach as her brows pulled together in confusion. “What is going to happen tonight?”

He tilted his head, leaning heavily on one leg, and gave her an exasperated look, one that she hadn’t seen in a while, “What else could I possibly be talking about?”

Ember swallowed harshly as he continued to toss things into the two open trunks at the bottom of their bed. Ineffectively packing up all their belongings of the only safe haven she had known with him. She felt tension ripple through her as suddenly decisions needed to be made. Thoughts that she had thought she would have time to process suddenly all needed to be answered and clear now.

“Why do you think tonight’s the night?” She questioned softly, moving to sit down in one of the chairs and watch his disastrous attempt at packing.

He was unceremoniously dumping all the contents of the nightstand drawer in one of the trunks before he glided across the room to the small bookshelf they kept in the corner. “I fixed the cabinet yesterday before- well you know. Crabbe and Goyle overheard Granger speaking to Potter this morning about him meeting Dumbledore tonight.” He looked up from his hunched over position and pulled the shiny coin from his pocket to twirl it for her view. “I’ll just have to wait till Madame Rosmerta gives me the all clear. Then I’ll send the signal and the Death Eaters will infiltrate the castle.” 

His eyes were positively gleaming with excitement as he paced around the room. He didn’t seem to realize that this was the first time he was explaining the inner workings of his overall plan to her and that she didn’t truly comprehend what Harry meeting Dumbledore, a shiny coin, or Madame Rosmerta had to do with it. That wasn’t what she was worried about though. He was casually, albeit hurriedly, closing the chapter of their story at Hogwarts with such seemingly reckless abandon that fear gripped her already unsteady thoughts. He had just fixed the cabinet yesterday? Shouldn’t he be taking more time to work out a fool-proof plan?

“Draco…maybe we should talk about this,” She suggested quietly, chewing on her bottom lip. She could sense overbearing walls closing her into a space that she did not want to be in. 

He stood up from his search underneath the bed, with her only pair of heels dangling from his fingers, and looked at her as if she had gone insane. “Talk about this? Em, what is there to talk about?”

“People are going to get hurt. Professor Dumbledore doesn’t deserve to be murdered. You don’t deserve to be the one to murder him!” She huffed out. “Draco, it doesn’t have to be tonight. Let’s take some time and think about this. Maybe there’s a way out of this. Please, I don’t want you to do this.”

He gaped at her, her heels falling to the ground with a small clatter. “Ember. This has to be done. You know this.”

She jumped to her feet and paced towards him till she was looking up into his eyes pleadingly. “No. No it doesn’t. We can escape. Let’s go somewhere far away. Anywhere! Let’s just run before you do something that you’re going to regret!”

“You don’t think I can do it, do you?” He hissed.

She shoved at his chest with frustration. “Are you listening? I don’t want you to do it! Not that I don’t think you can!” She shoved at his chest once more causing him to unconsciously take a step back. “Please, Hogwarts keeps us safe. Dumbledore keeps us safe. Why would you want to change that prematurely?”

“Nowhere is safe Ember!” He yelled, glaring down at her. “Or have you forgotten what happened this summer? What happened over Christmas? We are not going to run like cowards! I won’t be a coward!” He pointed his finger at her dangerously, “We’re going to be on the right side of the war this time.”

She couldn’t understand his warped sense of loyalty. Did he even understand the unchangeable consequences? How could he sprint into the arms of hell with a smile on his face? 

“Draco, just take a minute and think about it.” She begged grabbing his hand in hers; desperately trying to chisel away the part of him that thought there was no other way. “I don’t want you to be a murderer. We just have to find another way, maybe there’s another choice we haven’t thought about yet. Please don’t rush into this!”

His jaw clenched as his eyes hardened till they rivaled spark-less diamonds. “There isn’t a choice. It’s either kill Dumbledore or death. There is no choice to be made.”

She dropped his hand and took a step back. He was a hard wall of solidified judgement that she would never be able to break down. Had she not realized that all roads would lead to here? Had she truly thought that somewhere along the way these obstacles would vanish? Her head battled with her with these thoughts that seemed to have laid dormant over the year. How could he live with this choice? “I want no part of it.” She whispered brokenly.

His hard face fell dramatically; her words slicing through him. How could she say that? How could she look him in the eye and say that she wanted no part of it- wanted no part of him? He could hear his heart pound against his ribs painfully at her cold rejection. “What happened to being alone together?”

She gave him a withering stare, unwilling to be disregarded. “What happened to valuing my opinion? Or am I too crazy to be taken seriously?” She spat.

He blinked at her, aghast. “Valuing your opinion? When did your opinion change? Fuck! You don’t even get an opinion. I don’t get an opinion! Do you honestly not understand what is going to happen if I don’t complete this? I’m doing this for us!”

She shook her head, “You’re doing this for you. You want your father’s approval and you think this is the only way to get it. If you would only take the time to back away from the situation.”

“Get out,” He cut her off coldly. “I can’t have you fucking with my head right now. I have to focus so that we don’t die.”

Eyes void of compassion burned down on her. The room faded into the background as she read the hidden disappointment of his face as clear as day.

She stared at him with a somber expression. He couldn’t stand to look at her defeated face. “GET OUT!” He shouted when she hadn’t moved.

Ember flinched as his voice echoed around the room. He had never yelled at her like that before. Sure, he had been harsh and said unkind things, in even unkinder tones, but he had never yelled. She gazed at him sadly, wishing that he would understand, before complying and walking out the door.

~

The moment she left felt like she had taken all the sunlight from the room. Leaving him filled with adrenaline and crippling anxiety. He never quite realized that her support carried such a weight in his conscious; in his confidence. Without it he felt strangely hollow. He did not want for them to become estranged. They were interwovenly connected in ways far deeper than he believed either of them grasped. It would not do for them to be pitted against each other.

He should have expected some type of backlash from her. She was far too sweet, too kind and unassuming, to believe that she could let this happen without dragging her heels. Although he was caught in the middle of an emotional landslide, he wouldn’t let her sway his determination. He would let both of them cool off.

He had to do this now. Time was running out and if he thought about it for too long it would surely drown in anxiety. If he hesitated, he feared that he would make a mistake that could not easily be forgiven. She had always seemed to understand what was asked of him and what was asked of her. Had last night rattled her so much that she had so drastically changed, or would she have always been this opposed when faced directly with his fate?

He sat down heavily on the side of their bed. Itching to run his fingers through his hair but thinking twice after he remembered that his hair was in fact flawless. The first time it had been flawless all term it seemed. 

He could do this. With or without her support, he could do this. It was his opportunity to seize and he would be foolish to deny how much he wanted it to be over and done with. 

He pictured returning home to the manor, to his father with a proud smile and a warm embrace. He could almost feel the disgrace of the Malfoy name in the dark community lifting up and even exceeding where it had been placed before- solidifying his own name in undisputed glory. People would say he was the one to best the great Albus Dumbledore. He was the one to figure out how to penetrate the impenetrable fortress that was Hogwarts. He was the one. 

It was all at the tips of his fingers. He could taste the redemption and the victory, but now in his fantasies Ember looked at him with reserved sorrow- if she even looked at him at all. It had always been too good to be true with her. Far too easy for her to accept everything thrown at her. This was the catch he realized that he should have feared. 

He left their room, leaving all their belongings half packed and headed towards the Slytherin Common Room next door. He hadn’t been in the room nearly as often as he thought he would be over the year, but he found that what comfort there had always been amongst his Slytherin brethren was nothing to the safety of his own rooms with his own wife. 

He summoned a goblet of water, wishing that it was gin, and sat on the couch with his ankle placed over his knee waiting patiently for the lonely coin in his hand to warm. He clinked it against his ring with impatience.

There were too many people in the common room this evening. So many of them studying in groups with loud voices echoing around the area. Their conversations whispered in one ear and out the other as he deliberated on how the evening would go. He wished that Ember was sat beside him, but there was no sunshine to be found. He sorely figured that it was better that way. It would be better if the sun never knew what became of the monster hiding behind the clouds.

The coin began to gradually heat in his palm and he glanced down to see the numerals changing. He took a deep breath and pocketed the coin before standing up and gliding out of the room. It was time to sink or swim and hell if he didn’t know how to swim.

~

Gracefully walking about the castle was quickly becoming a past time that Ember could do without. She had barely been here a year and felt she knew these pathways like the back of her hand. With no friends to bother and no prospects of entertainment- she drifted outside to the courtyard where it was surprisingly scarce of students and sat herself down by the fountain.

She didn’t want to think of Draco being a hopeless case. She knew that deep down inside a part of him that wanted to listen to her and her reasons. Perhaps it was asking too much of a person to simply throw away all their accomplishments and hopes in the face to uncertain morals with even more uncertain consequences. She wished she could speak to someone about it, but the only one besides Draco who knew their situation was Snape and he would undoubtedly side with her husband.

She would inevitably be dragged to hell and back for Draco Malfoy. Whether she consented to it or not was still up for debate. And debate she did until the sky turned dark and a green flash of the very symbol that scarred her arm lit up the sky above the castle.

She quickly got to her feet and made her way back into the castle where students were beginning to shout and scatter away like mice. She paced through the corridors quickly desperately trying to think of where she could go to avoid the nonsense altogether. 

She turned a corner and froze as she saw a lean man block a curse flung in his direction before backing up into the end of corridor. He was clearly old enough to be a professor, but she had never seen his face before. He had light brown hair that fell into his eyes and multiple scratches lining his face. His eyes flitted to hers as she screeched to a stop before a jinx hit him in his chest and knocked him back into the stone. He dropped to the ground in a heap of limbs and remained so.

Ember’s fingers quivered at her side, her back tensing up like a startled cat. She eyed the man on the floor wondering where he had come from, and who he was, before darting her eyes to the rounded corridor and holding her breath. She hoped blindly that whoever jinxed the man would remain on the other side of the corridor. She did not want to run into any Death Eaters tonight. 

All hope drained as she saw shadows growing larger on the rounded wall. She looked around quickly for a place to hide, cursing silently when there wasn’t one. On a whim, she tried to twist herself to apparate before remembering that she wouldn’t be able to inside the castle. 

She began to back down the corridor as silent as the grave before none other than Bellatrix Lestrange rounded the corner.

Ember froze, caught in the crazed woman’s gaze. The abhorrent Carrow twins flanked her as she grinned mischievously, “There you are niece-y!” 

Ember tensed before doubling her efforts to retreat. Bellatrix cackled loudly before shooting a full-body bind curse languidly. It hit Ember in the chest sending her flying onto the cold hard ground. 

Bellatrix swaggered down the hall with a mocking pout on her lips. She tossed her long crimped hair over her shoulder as she turned Ember over with her foot. “And where did you think you were going missy? Draco’s been looking for you.”

Ember’s eyes pleaded with the woman who was so different from her sister. The Carrows cackled behind Draco’s aunt cruelly as Bellatrix grinned before swooshing her wand through the air; releasing Ember. 

“Please! I just want to be left out of it!” Ember beseeched as she sat up on her knees and gazed up at the woman only to squeak as long fingers gripped her forearm and hoisted her off the floor.

“You’re a Death Eater!” Bellatrix hissed in Ember’s face, her eyes wide with malice. “And you’re about to miss the main attraction!”

Ember struggled in her hold as a new figure appeared at the corner. His face was disfigured as if it was paused in mid transformation, with hair sprouting from his face and exposed chest. Ember immediately knew it to be Fenrir Greyback and paled considerably as Bellatrix dragged her towards him.


	24. One of the Wicked

“If I had one more day to wish, if I had one more day. I could be better, but, baby- Oh, it’s Saturday Night. I pray for the wicked on the weekend.”  
-Panic! At the Disco, Say Amen (Saturday Night)

Draco stood patiently in front of the vanishing cabinet, hopefully for the last time. Dressed to the nines and trembling in anticipation did he close his eyes and focus on the only thing that mattered at the moment:

Harmonia Nectere Passus. Harmonia Nectere Passus. Harmonia Nectere Passus.

A thunderous clatter sounded from the cabinet and a moment later his aunt was grinning her trademarked grin and stepping into the Room of Hidden Things. Draco unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief. It was done. He had done it! He had successfully let the Death Eaters into the castle.

Bellatrix’s entrance was followed by the egregious Carrow twins, Rowle and another figure that was not supposed to have been present on this little excursion; Fenrir Greyback.

Draco sneered at the werewolf, “You were not invited.”

Fenrir smirked his full lips revealing yellowed teeth. “Not on your order boy.”

Bellatrix stepped in between the two. “Greyback will be as pleasant as he always is. Let’s get this business started. Draco lead the way.”

Draco gave Fenrir a withering glare. His friends were in the castle and if he harmed- bit- anyone there would be hell to pay.

“Draco!” His aunt hissed and Draco rolled his eyes before leading them towards the entrance of the Room of Requirement. 

He listened at the door for a moment, as was his usual procedure, it had always been a precaution- a just in case. Nothing had ever truly been waiting for him on the other side but as his ear was pressed to the door he could hear the mutterings of two Weasley’s just on the other side.

Alecto and Amycus had begun to bicker in the background as they usually did and Draco commanded silence. His frazzled nerves began to vibrate softly at this obstacle, but luckily it was one that he had been prepared for. He dug in his pocket for the Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder that he had Goyle purchase from Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes months ago and revealed the Hand of Glory he knicked from Borgin at the start of term from his other hand. 

His aunt beamed darkly down at him. “How clever Draco,” She purred.

He pocketed the small amount of glory he received from the comment and slowly opened the door. After hushing the Carrows once more, he tossed the sparkling black rock into the corridor.

Instantly the entire floor blanked with black dust so dark that it concealed everything. Everything but the Hand of Glory. He lifted the perfect light in front of his face and quickly guided himself and the Death Eaters past the entrance and down the corridor heading towards the Astronomy tower.

When they finally made it to a corridor cleared of the darkness powder, Bellatrix stopped the brigade and glided her way over to one of the balconies cackling madly as she pointed her wand to the sky above the Astronomy Tower. Green mist left her wand in a huge blast and a green dark mark illuminated the sky above the tower. 

She turned back to the group and wagged her brows, “Let that lure the old codger.” She jeered.

Draco felt his heart begin to race at such a dark representation of what was to come and the group continued to bound down the corridor. A bang sounded behind them and Rowle was flung into the wall opposite by none other than Draco’s elusive cousin, Nymphadora Tonks. 

He gulped harshly. His older cousin was someone he had only heard mentioned when his mother was in a particularly good and nostalgic mood. She was a traitor due to his aunt Andromeda marrying a muggle-born and therefore Nymphadora was marked one as well. He also knew that if she was here that it meant that the damn Order of the Phoenix was here as well and that presented more problems than he had anticipated.

Fenrir growled at her as Alecto sent a jinx towards Nymphadora. She blocked the jinx but was immediately caught in a scuffle between the Carrows and a resurfacing Rowle.

Bellatrix grabbed Draco’s arm and his attention, “Go Draco! Finish him! We’ll join when we’re finished here!”

Draco began to stride away when a terrible thought occurred to him, all of his own making, and he turned back towards his aunt. “Ember. I don’t know where she is!”

“We’ll find her! Go!” His aunt stressed as she stuck her tongue out and flung another member of the Order of the Phoenix down the corridor, sending them crashing into a line of armored suits. 

Draco paused at the thought of Ember being apprehended by any of these wizards. Merlin, there was a fucking battle erupting and he didn’t have any idea where she was! How had he been so stupid?! He never should have sent her away. He should have glued her to his side. If anything happened to her…

“GO!” His aunt shouted again and he turned on his heel continuing his way towards the tower. The faster he finished this, the sooner he could find Ember and know that she was safe.

He climbed the winding stairs stealthily, each step seeming to weigh him down more, as he heard voices spoken above him. Now or never. This was his moment.

When the opening revealed the ramparts of the Astronomy tower, Dumbledore was leaning against a column looking far more withered than Draco had ever remembered seeing him. He quickly exclaimed, “Expelliarmus!” and Dumbledore’s wand arced its way away from the old man and landed on the floor with a dull thud.

It was so quiet up here; not revealing anything of the violence below and it gave Draco’s thoughts more room to breathe.

“Good evening, Draco.” Dumbledore greeted easily.

Draco kept his wand raised toward the Headmaster, “Who were you talking to? I heard voices.”

“What brings you here on this fine evening?”

He speaks so casually, as if a wand wasn’t point to his face, Draco thought, unsettled. Suddenly a loud bang sounded from down below and Dumbledore grimaced slightly. “Ah then there are Death Eaters in the castle tonight?”

“Yes. I smuggled them in. Right underneath your nose!” He taunted, feeling pride wash through his veins. He gripped to it tightly letting it consume him and urge him to the finish line.

“Oh? Very good, and how did you manage that?” Dumbledore asked conversationally, straightening his back. His glasses were missing and the bags underneath his eyes seemed to weigh his face down. He is weak, Draco thought mildly.

“The vanishing cabinet. The broken one no one’s used since Montague got trapped there last year. I repaired it. Took me all year.” Draco explained. He wanted Dumbledore to know how brilliant he was; how he had slaved over his tasks with cunning determination. He wanted to bask in his accomplishments in front of the greatest wizard alive.

“Ingenious. How very clever of you.” Dumbledore applauded. “Now tell me, what is it that you are waiting for?” He opened his arms as if greeting Draco’s attempt. “I’m completely undefended. It does not sound as if your friends are going to be able to join us.”

“They’re not my friends.” Draco stressed pointing dangerously with his wand. “I don’t need them to do this!”

Dumbledore sighed deeply and frowned, clasping his hands together calmly. “You are no assassin. Of course, I have noticed your meager attempts with Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley, to assassinate me. They were not well thought out endeavors. Nowhere near as clever as your vanishing cabinet.”

Draco’s gaped at the wizard. This was all wrong! He wasn’t supposed to be aware of his past attempts. He wasn’t supposed to have suspected anything! Draco loosened his shoulders, ignoring the blood pumping in his ears and the slight tremble taking over his body.

“How do you know what I am? I’m capable of far more than you could imagine.”

“Forgive me, but I believe if you were going to murder me you would have done it after disarming me.” He waved his hand in the air, “Or are we waiting for an audience? Perhaps you would like Ember to see.”

Draco growled at the idea of Ember seeing any of this. “Leave her out of this!”

Dumbledore gazed at him pityingly and it irked Draco even more. “Your attempts have been weak. So weak that I feel as if your heart has not been in them. Draco, you are no killer.” He took a step forward, before Draco pointed his wand forcefully. Dumbledore easily froze and once again held his hands up in surrender. “Let me help you,” He implored. “I can provide better protection for you and Ember- much better than you could possibly imagine. Do not play into his hand.”

Draco felt his heart jump into his throat and swallowed roughly. He would not allow the old man’s words of wisdom deter him. He would not let the dangled hope of another choice rip him away from his prize. He felt unbidden tears fill his eyes as he stared into the withered face of his Headmaster. Draco quickly ripped his sleeve up over his dark mark and sneered. “It’s too late for that. It’s too late for me. It’s too late for her. I have to do this! I was chosen! I have to kill you. Or he’s gonna kill me. And her. And my parents.”

Footsteps could be heard pounding up the stairs and they both looked sideways towards the entrance, Draco never lowering his wand. Fenrir Greyback was first to enter followed by Bellatrix who had a struggling Ember in her grasp. Amycus Carrow was the last to enter with a haughty smile.

Draco froze as his eyes caught Ember’s pleading gaze. She looked so shaken gripped tightly by his aunt. Her long finger nails bit into Ember’s skin enough that he knew bruises were going to form. He felt himself start to tremble under the eyes of long standing Death Eaters.

Bellatrix pushed Ember into the arms of Greyback and Draco clenched his fist at his side. What had Ember ever done to deserve such treatment?

His aunt floated behind him and placed a kiss on his cheek, “Well done Draco.” She whispered, her eyes meeting Dumbledore’s.

“Good evening Bellatrix,” Dumbledore greeted evenly.

Her eyes narrowed on the Headmaster before she urged Draco, pushing him forward, “Do it! Do it now!”

Too much was happening. His wand was pointed at the Headmaster, shaking only slightly. His wife was being handled by a werewolf who was famous for biting children. His aunt was hissing in his ear. The pressure was compressing his shoulders into the ground. He stared into the sympathetic eyes on the wilted faced professor. He realized numbly that he couldn’t really take his life. Here he was at the finish line. He had made it all the way to the journey’s end and all he could do was shake in the wake of those older than him. I don’t have a choice, he reminded himself. He gazed back to Ember who was biting her bottom lip hard enough that a small trail of blood was beginning to form. Her forest green eyes were so sad, pleading with him to choose the right choice. But what was the right choice? 

He began to lower his wand, if only slightly, when a shadow of familiar billowing robes flashed from behind the group.

Severus Snape swept up next to him, and Draco took the moment to shuffle to the side as Snape regarded the Headmaster with a face empty of all emotion.  
“Severus, please,” Dumbledore pleaded casually.

Snape remained paused for a moment before he lifted his wand swiftly and pronounced, “Avada Kedavra!”

A green flash flashed forward and hit the Headmaster square in the chest. His eyes widened microscopically as his body was thrown backward from the force of the curse and he fell from the Astronomy tower down to the awaiting courtyard below.

~

Ember stared horror-struck as the old man disappeared over the ramparts. Her eyes quickly darted to Snape, who had yet to lower his wand. His mouth was parted, his eyes downcast as he let out a deep breath. Everything slowed down as he gently lowered his wand. Bellatrix’s loud cackling penetrated the ringing in Ember’s ears but she still saw the bobbing of Snape’s throat as he gulped inconspicuously.

Ember struggled slightly in Fenrir’s grip. She could feel the werewolf’s breath on her ear, as he inhaled her scent, causing her to shiver in repulsion. She looked to Draco who had remained paralyzed from the moment Snape arrived. He stared at the place Dumbledore had occupied with pale eyes and mouth agape.

Finally, Bellatrix’s laughter propelled Snape in to action. His attention flew to Ember before bounding up to Fenrir. His eyes grew cold as he glared at the abominable werewolf and held a hand out to her. “Everyone move! Let’s go!” He hissed.

She shakily rose her hand to meet his, not really believing that Greyback would simply let her go just because of Snape’s influence, but the Carrows began to file down the stairs and Fenrir shoved her slightly into the arms of Snape before following. He caught her by the tops of her arms and immediately turned her body around and pushed her towards the stairs.

“Draco come!” Bellatrix ushered causing Ember to freeze on the top step. She looked over her shoulder to the blonde boy her hands ached to hold. He was still frozen in shock as Bellatrix and Snape inquired after the him. 

He blinked harshly, letting his eyes meet his aunts before resting them on Ember. His grey eyes were wide and filled with dismay and he gulped before nodding at her once and making to follow. Snape blocked her view and roughly pushed her shoulder forward. 

Her feet flew down the stairs gracefully. Her heart was pounding in her ears as her feet padded through the steps in record time. She tripped to the side at the bottom of the staircase, not expecting to see spells and curses shooting all across the corridor.

The Carrow twins were locked into a duel with a tall black man and Greyback was growling while deflecting spells from a red-haired student. Bellatrix, after finally descending the stairs, threw her wand dramatically in front of her and exploded all of the glass from the windows of the corridor. It happened in waves as window after window erupted into a rain of glass.

Ember heard roaring shouts as everyone ducked for cover. She was suddenly surrounded by Draco’s arms, her head tucked safely into his chest. He buried his head into the space where her neck met her shoulder as glass rained around them. She clutched tightly to the shirt beneath his jacket and began to shake violently.

The sound of glass littering to the floor descended back into the sounds of shouts and curses and she felt Snape grab both her and Draco’s shoulders before roughly pushing them forward down the corridor.

They moved swiftly, somehow managing to dodge and avoid all curses. Draco had shoved his hand into hers and she followed him robotically. Looking over her shoulder she saw that Snape was right behind them, the rest of the Death Eaters scattered around the corridor still fighting. 

It was then that it occurred to her that they were not targeting the three of them. They must have thought that they had nothing to do with the Death Eaters infiltration. They must not know that they were letting the conspirator and murderer leave the castle unperturbed. Smushed in the middle of her husband, mentor, and a handful of Death Eaters; she was nothing more now than one of the wicked.

Quickly they reached the front of the castle and Ember drew to a pause as she met the eyes of the man she had seen crumpled in a heap just an hour earlier. There were new scratches on his face, his breathing ragged, as he skidded to a stop before them. He exchanged a prolonged glance with Snape, who stared back blankly.

Draco jerked on her hand harshly as Rowle threw a curse over her shoulder at the man. Bellatrix traipsed her way in front of them and Snape glided behind her out the massive door. Draco tugged her hand again and she turned to meet his eyes. “We have to go now.”

She shook her head feeling only moments from either fainting or sobbing. She didn’t want to follow the Death Eaters. She didn’t want to leave Hogwarts. She didn’t want to walk back in that house to find Voldemort ready to carry her off with his bidding. She didn’t want to be associated with the murderous acts of second-rate followers.

Draco paused in his pulling. His eyes widened frightfully at the resolve in hers. He shook his head and tightened his grip on her wrist. She was on the precipice of choice. A choice she knew was only hers to make. Draco might have been bullied and blinded enough to ignore the other options, but she was not tied to the situation as intricately as he.

His eyes darted between hers as he took a step closer, swallowing roughly. His once perfect hair was falling into his fearful eyes in sweaty clumps. His lower lip was curled downward revealing his bottom row of teeth as he breathed raggedly. His pulled on her arm once more, his shoulders tensing when she did not move to follow.

She gazed into his terrified eyes empathetically. They were rounded globes of vulnerable glass that were beginning to crack along the seams. If she tried to stay, he would have no one. He would have to walk back into that house with his tail between his legs. She couldn’t leave him alone to that fate. Alone together, those were the only vows they chosen for each other in their sham of a marriage. Her heart bled as she acquiesced and followed him down the castle steps.

Draco squeezed her hand so tightly that her fingers began to throb. It was a silent way of gratefully acknowledging the choice she had made for him. She stumbled behind him as they caught up with the Carrows, Bellatrix, and Snape all heading towards the Forbidden Forest behind Hagrid’s Hut. She didn’t have the time to worry about what had held Greyback and Rowle back. 

They had only made it half way across the lawn before they heard a familiar voice’s shout echo from behind them. The couple and Snape turned to see a truly upset Harry Potter sprinting towards them. “SNAPE!” He screamed, “HE TRUSTED YOU!”

Suddenly a large boom sounded and they turned back to see that Bellatrix had lit the Hut in a fiery inferno, cheering to herself loudly. 

A curse sounded from behind them and Ember turned to see Snape deflect it easily. Harry kept speeding down the hill towards the professor with his wand waving angrily. Draco harshly tugged on her wrist to get her to continue to follow him and leave Snape to deal with Potter. Ember hesitated for a moment before realizing that Snape, after deflecting another jinx, could handle Harry easily enough. She turned back to the forest and pushed Draco’s shoulder forward.

Only a moment later did she feel a sharp force hit her between her shoulder blades and propel her forward. She flung through the air and harshly landed on her back. The wind was knocked out of her lungs as if she had a hundred-pound weight pressing her down into the dewy ground.

“POTTER!” She heard Draco shout and turned her neck into an awkward angle to see Draco charging back towards Snape his wand already flicking wayward curses at a suddenly startled Harry.

“No,” She croaked weakly into the grass. Draco couldn’t go parading down back into the fray. Harry was positively lethal at this point with eyes blazing of betrayal. She couldn’t help but remember what had happened after their last spell induced encounter.

“NO!” Snape echoed her and deflected another curse before flinging one of his own that sent Harry flying backwards, not unlike Ember a few moments before.  
Ember rolled onto her stomach and panted as she saw Snape push Draco back towards her roughly. 

Ember was already back on her feet when Draco returned to her side his eyes clearly asking if she was alright. She nodded to him as he wrapped her hand in his once more.

Ember looked over his shoulder to hear Harry scream, “YOU COWARD! FIGHT BACK YOU COWARD!” He was still throwing hexes at the unyielding ex-potions master.

Ember’s eyes met Draco’s once more and she whispered breathlessly, “How does he know?”

Confusion flickered briefly through his eyes before he shook his head and pushed Ember towards the forest in front of them. 

Her shoes squelched against the damp grass as they hastened to their escape. She could she Bellatrix up ahead wink at them before turning on the spot and apparating off the grounds.

Hagrid’s Hut sent off another deafening boom causing the two of them to push into a run to the spot Bellatrix had just left. Once deep into the trees, Ember grabbed tight to Draco’s forearm, briefly met his eyes, and turned on the spot; taking them far away from the simmering battle at Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF PART TWO
> 
> Comments?


	25. Tender Ramifications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART THREE
> 
> In which, she rebuilds and he falls apart.

“Oh, hush, my dear, it’s been a difficult year. And terrors don’t prey on innocent victims.”  
-Imagine Dragons, Bad Liar

It was strange to think that a year ago Ember had entered Malfoy Manor with no knowledge of the world around her. She had felt so much younger then, without the weight of ripped away choices. What had been presented as a holiday stay had turned into a predetermined future filled with bleakness. Her sixteenth, and Draco’s eighteenth, birthday passed without acknowledgement. It was late into July, where even the cooling night breezes couldn’t contain the blazing heat.

The return to the manor had been nothing short of disastrous. It had been the first place Ember had thought to apparate to, her mind still racing with all that had taken place in the span of an hour. Lucius had fled out the front door at the resounding crack that whistled their appearance. 

He had rushed to the pair, grasping Draco’s shoulders in his hands, before Ember had even had a chance to let go of his hand. “What happened?” He demanded. His eyes were crazed and anxious as he rattled Draco.

Draco gulped, staring up at the cautiously hopeful eyes of his father and shook his head. He was unable to voice his failure due to the lump of pure emotion clogging his throat. Lucius shook him once more, begging his son to exclaim his victory, but it was Ember who answered.

“Dumbledore’s dead. Snape killed him.”

A heavy pause rested between them and Lucius turned his astonished gaze at the girl, “What do you mean Snape killed him?” 

Draco hung his head. All the anxiety propelling energy was gone leaving nothing but shocking dejection. The Death Eaters might have won the battle, but Draco had lost his own war. It would not go unnoticed.

Ember frowned at the man and gently pulled Draco’s arm to her, effectively breaking the hold Lucius held over him. “Exactly what I said, sir.” She spoke out with an edged tone, her eyes glaring at him for not caring about the state of his son. “Snape killed him. The Death Eaters just apparated from Hogwarts.”

Lucius straightened his back while clenching his jaw. He flashed his eyes dangerously at her and without a word, he twisted on the spot and dissaparated from the courtyard.  
Draco seemed to deflate even more, his shoulders hunching over. “Come on,” Ember whispered into his ear, squeezing his arm and leading him into the house.

Narcissa was waiting in the foyer, her usual happiness in the returning of her son nowhere to be found. Draco paused, giving his mother a destroyed look with glassy eyes before quickly breaking their eye contact and looking down at the floor. Ember’s hand tightened on his arm and she ushered him up the stairs, the their room, sharing an understanding look with Narcissa.

He managed fall to the bed before whatever had been holding the dam broke and sobs gushed out of him like an avalanche. They fell off his lips and ripped from his throat in heartbreaking torrents. She froze, standing there beside their bed as he plummeted into the abyss that had lingered over him for the past year. He sunk into it easily, having no net to break his fall. He lifted his hands to hide his face and his wand, that had been held tightly in his fist since they had been up in that Astronomy tower, tumbled off the bed and clattered onto the floor.

Ember licked her lips before bending to pick up the wand and place it on the nightstand. His fingers were wrenching at his hair when she crawled next to him. After a moments uncertainty, she brought her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder. Instantly he curled into her, resting his head on her chest and crushing her to him in a struggled attempt to ground himself. The sobs pierced through her chest, each uglier than the last, seeming to never end. All she could do was hold him, brush her fingers through his sweaty hair while whispering comforting words, and let him mourn.

She had hoped that he would be back to his normal sarcastic countenance within a few days. He wasn’t, and honestly it would be a long time until he had the strength to pull himself up out of the hole he buried himself in.

Lucius had come back in a whirlwind of turmoil. He had ranted, hit, and verbally denounced an already destroyed Draco. Just like Draco had needed to cry out his failures, Lucius needed to make his anger known, and once it was out there, his rage had simmered down. Draco had took it without excuses, without so much as a word in his defense. Ember had wanted to interfere but Narcissa had held her back, stopping her from making the situation any worse.

They had all waited for Voldemort to make another visit to the manor. It was expected that he would either kill Draco or publicly torture and humiliate him. None of this happened. And the later it got into the summer without a word from the Dark Lord, the more on edge Draco and Ember became.

Draco figured he was torturing him just by keeping him waiting. The day after the Astronomy Tower he had drowned himself in gin and had yet to resurface. Ember had tried to pull him back from that edge, but she didn’t understand that he was so far off the edge that even her concerned gaze could not return his sanity. The alcohol helped. It kept him in that lovely space where everything was light and nothing truly mattered. It allowed him to shut out his thoughts and ignore the oppressive depression crushing him. What did it matter if he wanted to drink? His life was over; it was only a matter of time before he paid for his failures. What did it matter if he wanted to swim in liquor as he drowned? He was nothing but a washed-up loser living on borrowed time.

Ember didn’t like this new Draco. He was nothing but an emotionless shell lying in bed or walking the halls with his hand clutched around a bottle. He had always been melancholic by nature, but this was a new level of gloom that followed him around. He wouldn’t talk to her, or anyone, and if he did it was in short remarks that snapped harshly at what little strength she was trying to hold on to.

She tried to help him. She understood his depression, she even understood his choice in distraction, but it wasn’t healthy and it left her alone in the manor of her nightmares. Every day that passed where he wouldn’t so much as look at her, was a day she regretted her decision to come back with him. She should have stayed at Hogwarts when she had the chance. There was no doubt that Draco needed her, but it was hard to feel useful when whatever help she extended was ignored.

As the weeks passed she had surprisingly gotten on better with her in-laws. She shared her meals with them in the dining room that haunted her. Draco ate with them on occasion, but usually by the time the evening meal came around, he was already blurred into his dreams. 

While she had always gotten along with Narcissa, Lucius had been kept at arms-length. She would never trust the ma,n and rightfully so, but as the weeks passed she learned that underneath his intimidating behavior, he was impressed with her intellect and they both had managed to keep many level-headed conversations. He had been called to a few Death Eater meetings, where he too waited for the Dark Lords bashing, but remained at the manor most days.

She filled her days with books and tea and long walks in the garden all while keeping a lingering gaze on her deteriorating husband. At night, when everyone was asleep and there was no one to stare at her, she would climb in their bed and let herself weep next to the empty vessel that was Draco.

~

It was the middle of July when Severus visited the manor. Damage control of effectively showing his hand and standing with the rising dark forces and the added weight of becoming the new Headmaster of Hogwarts had drawn his attention away from the Malfoy’s. Not that he particularly cared for the Malfoy’s, it was the girl he had spent everyday conversing with that made him return on his own agenda. 

Draco was lying on the chaise nursing a hefty glass of bourbon when his old professor stepped out of the fire place and into the sitting room in his usual gloomy manner.  
Severus looked down at him with an arched brow, taking in the glorious mess of a man he had become. 

Draco threw an arm over his eyes. A few weeks earlier he might have hexed the professor, and effectively thrown him out of his house for how he undercut Draco and had stolen his glory, just like Draco had always known he would, but Draco found he had little energy to divert to the man who had ruined his life. Instead, he chose to ignore the wizards existence entirely. “Father’s in his study,” He whispered.

“I’m not here for Lucius.”

Dread pooled in Draco’s stomach and he removed his arm from his eyes before carefully asking, “Then who are you here for?”

“Ember.” Severus responded monotone, only a little entertained by the way Draco’s face had gone white.

“Ember?” He repeated. “What for?”

Severus gave him a pointed look. “It’s no business of yours.”

Draco gaped at him, offended, before sitting up and narrowing his eyes. “She’s my wife.”

Severus remained unamused. “Yes, and how is becoming a drunk recluse helping your wife?”

Draco glared at the man that robbed him of his glory, that anger that was always simmering in the pit of his stomach, usually at himself, was quickly burning for the man that dared to speak to him. “I’m going to be offed sooner or later. You don’t get to judge me on how I choose to waste my time.”

Severus rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “He’s not going to kill you, you idiot.”

Draco’s anger paused at the confusing statement. “What?”

Snape blinked at him. “He needs Ember. He can’t kill you without killing her.”

He frowned. He didn’t think Voldemort would really put a lot of weight into the feelings of a girl. Sure she was special, but Draco doubted that his death would really affect her enough that she would cause a problem for the Dark Lord.

Snape sighed at the bewildered expression on Draco’s face. It was quite comical to watch him try to think clearly when he was obviously smashed, but Snape was far past entertaining this Draco. “Do you know where she is? Or must I trape myself around until I run across her?”

Draco shrugged, his brows still pinched, before downing the rest of his glass and glancing out the window at the fair day. “She’s probably out in the garden.”

“The garden?”

~

When the weather was nice, Ember liked to stroll around the gardens. The different flowers were the only colorful thing in the estate, the only thing that reminded her that there were still beautiful things. Sometimes she would even visit when it rained and would read under the protective cover of the gazebo. 

She thought that she was the only one who appreciated the solitude the garden brought, save maybe the gardener, but she was proven wrong when on this bright July afternoon she entered the garden only to see Narcissa on her knees elbow deep in a patch of dirt.

It was an odd sight. The always immaculate matriarch down and dirty in the soil. Ember didn’t think the woman even knew how to get dirty. She had on a large white hat to block out the sun and a pair of fancy gloves on. When she looked up from her hydrangeas, she squinted but smiled primly at the awe-struck girl and beckoned her over.  
Ember, still recovering from the strange type of shock, hesitantly approached the woman. She had never seen Narcissa do anything besides drink tea and read delicately about the most recent fashions. When Ember had first arrived and was unaware of the magic of the world she had noted it as bizarre, but afterwards she assumed the house elves did all of the house work. The thought that she might do house work of any kind was laughable. She was always so pristine, never had so much as a hair out of place, so to see her caring and bowing down to the earth was offbeat and uncharacteristic. 

She really was a sweet woman underneath the vacant façade. Ember wondered if she had ever been allowed to branch out and make friends of her own away from her family’s connections. It was painfully obvious that Lucius kept her close to the chest. She knew the loved they shared was true enough and that they truly loved their son in their own unorthodox way. But she wondered if Narcissa had ever been more than just a pretty cover; if her book was far more interesting that anything Ember had on her shelves.

“Good afternoon,” Ember whispered in greeting, bending down next to the woman.

“I believe it’s still morning.” Narcissa commented good-naturedly. “What’s got that frown on your face?”

Oh god, did she just constantly walk around with a frown? She winced internally because she knew the answer.

She shrugged, not wanting to explain that her son was the main reason for her current unhappiness, and changed the subject. “Why are you planting flowers?”

Narcissa sent her an ambiguous smile. “I plant all the flowers.”

The frown that was almost permanent pulled the corners of Ember’s lips down more. “But why? Can’t you just use magic? Isn’t that what herbology is all about?”

Narcissa laughed and it sounded like summer bells. “Magic is wonderful, but sometimes you need to take care of things yourself. This garden gives me purpose, something to care for.” She sighed softly and sat back on her haunches looking over the patches of flowers surrounding them. “I like the simplicity of flowers. It gets so dreary in the manor sometimes that it’s nice to have this little oasis.” Her lips pulled into a playful smirk. “Besides, herbology is not purely flowers.”

Ember smiled softly at the thought that Narcissa also wasn’t very fond of the always bleak interior. “Well it is beautiful,” She complimented while reaching out a delicately petting a petal. “How long have you been able to maintain it?”

Narcissa reached forward once more digging her trowel back into the soil, her voice sounding much farther off than it had a moment ago. “Oh well I started the garden when Draco was three. He constantly wanted to be outdoors, practicing with his baby broom, and honestly it gets a bit boring watching a toddler go around in circles and circles. That’s when he started to get stubborn and I missed having a baby to take care of. So, I started with some dahlias and then added some marigolds and roses and it just evolved into this.”

It was quite amazing. This always unblemished woman lowered herself into the earth just so that she could create something beautiful, for herself, and something that she could take care of without the influence of magic. It was remarkable and Ember felt like she hadn’t given Narcissa enough credit.

“What is your favorite flower?” Narcissa asked as she plucked some weeds. 

“Oh.” Ember paused feeling that always lingering sadness fill her heart. “I’m not sure. I’m sure I had one but I can’t remember.” She said sadly. It wasn’t a secret from the Malfoy’s that Ember didn’t remember much of her life before them. Narcissa frowned as Ember gazed unseeingly at a patch of daisies looking even more somber than she had when she entered.

“You know,” Narcissa started, plucking off a little white daisy, “Daisies can adapt to most any environment and therefore bloom most of the year.” She offered Ember the flower.  
“They also match your complexion.”

She smiled at the older woman taking the flower and twirling it in between her fingers.

Suddenly there was a shadow looming over their corner. The two turned their torsos to see who was approaching and were surprised to see Severus Snape prowl into the garden alongside a begrudging Draco.

Ember frowned at the man. She hadn’t seen him since that night at Hogwarts and wasn’t quite sure how she felt about him now. He was a murderer. She had witnessed him murder a defenseless man without regret. And while she was relieved that Draco hadn’t been the one to create such a heinous crime she wasn’t sure that she wanted Snape to have been the reason why.

“Narcissa, Ember,” He greeted evenly.

As if a veil had been brought down, Narcissa’s face smoothed and that vacant smile of hers returned. “Hello Severus. How nice of you to stop by. I’m sure Draco told you that Lucius is in his study.”

Ember glanced to Draco as he pouted and melodramatically rolled his eyes.

“Yes he has.” Snape commented idly before setting his gaze on Ember. “It’s a shame I’m not here for Lucius.” 

Narcissa frowned turning to look to her daughter in-law who was still twirling the daisy in her fingers anxiously. It was obvious that it only left Ember who he sought out. 

“Why?” Ember asked candidly.

Snape seemed unmoved by her skepticism. “I believe that I have figured out a way to help you possibly recover some of your memories.”

Everyone stilled. Ember’s breath caught in her throat, her heart beating rapidly into her ribs. “What?” She whispered.

He nodded. “I thought you would be interested.”

She popped up to her feet, pure excitement bubbling up in her cheeks. “Of course I’m interested! How did you figure it out? How does it work?”

Snape’s lips twitched upwards at her eagerness. “If you come with me we can discuss it further.”

That should have been suspicious, but the idea of getting to recover her memories and get away from the manor for a while brushed away any concerns she might have had for any ulterior motives he might be withholding.

“Then let’s go, let’s go!” She ushered, bouncing on her toes.

Draco’s eyes narrowed at her fervor. The simplicity with how she got along with Snape had always unnerved him; mostly because he couldn’t understand it. No one, even the Slytherins, particularly liked the bitter man and yet Ember couldn’t wait to go gallivanting off with him. If he hadn’t been so blinded by the bourbon he would have been happy for her. Instead, the alcohol only made him feel guilty that he could no longer create that happiness.

“Alright, alright.” Snape conceded, beginning to turn back towards the house.

“Where are you going? Can’t we apparate?” Ember asked with a slight pout.

The ex-potions master gave her a puzzled look. “The Floo Network is more reliable.”

Draco snorted behind them, folding his arms over his chest. “Ember doesn’t do the Floo Network.”

Severus weighed Draco’s remark before arching a brow at a suddenly glaring Ember. “I don’t do it very well.” She corrected and then bashfully added, “I always get soot up my nose. Besides, I’m an expert apparater.” 

Snape pursed his lips together. “Very well. But we must side-along apparate.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re going to Hogwarts.”

~

The walls of Hogwarts hadn’t changed but everything else had. The castle was empty of laughing students and stressed professors and that specific magic that had always filled the rooms was lacking. Snape explained candidly that he was now Headmaster. It seemed wrong on a number of accounts, especially where morals were concerned, but Ember had always known how to keep her opinions to herself. It was this new promotion, and influence from Voldemort, that had led to lifting the apparition restrictions.

They apparated right into the Headmaster’s office. If Ember hadn’t visited the office the year prior under a different Headmaster, she probably wouldn’t have been affected at all, but she had. And now the office that once belonged to Albus Dumbledore was decorated like the ex-potions master’s office in the dungeons. Furniture and knick knacks she recognized from her long hours were now literally shown in a different light, and perhaps that was the strangest thing of all. The office in the dungeon had not had any windows and was only lit by candle light. The Headmaster’s office rested in a tower of its own and therefore had a series of windows high on the ceiling bringing a hoax of natural light shining down on his desk. But what she found strangest of all was not the relocation of furniture, Snape hadn’t removed the moving portraits of past Headmasters that littered the walls and now a portrait of Dumbledore was among them. His seemingly all-knowing eyes twinkled at her from over his half-moon spectacles and Ember quickly adverted her gaze.

The new Headmaster seemed a bit hesitant to let her into the room. She assumed that his colleagues were not particularly thriving conversationalist since that June night- not that he had any friends before the battle. He was abrasive and gloomy and far too dramatic to keep proper company. It wasn’t as if the Death Eaters were a friendly crowd either. Most of them were too one dimensional and dim-witted to provide good enough conversation. 

“Have a seat,” He murmured as he walked around his desk that was rectangular as opposed to his old circular one.

She sat down with none of her normal patience. “So what makes you think you can restore my memories?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head astutely.

“What?” She asked her lips forming into a pout, wondering if he did in fact have other motives for collecting her from the manor.

“You have changed since last fall.” He sat down casually and studied her. She let him even though his true intentions were getting considerably harder to decipher. It wasn’t very nice to tempt her with something he knew would be her weakness. Then again he was a murderer so lying would hardly be his greatest offense. “How are you?”

His attempt at cursory conversation was idiosyncratic and did the exact opposite of reassuring her, if that was his intent. She shrugged, “The manor is depressing.”

“Your husband is depressing,” He elaborated. She sighed but did not disagree. “How long has he been drinking?”

“When did we leave Hogwarts?” She countered facetiously.

His lips pursed and he nodded acknowledging. “I do hope he gets less pathetic with time.”

“He believes that you not only stole his glory right from underneath him, something he had always been paranoid about, but he knows that he’s going to be punished for it.” Snape’s jaw clenched and he refused to meet her eyes in favor of the bare desk. She licked her lips before continuing. “I think we both know that Draco wouldn’t have actually gone through with it. You probably saved his life by taking the task upon yourself. He just doesn’t see it that way.”

“And you do?”

She shook her head with a grim smile. “It doesn’t matter how I see it.”

He leaned back and studied her once more with an appreciative analytical gaze. 

~

“So how does this work?” Ember asked, standing curiously in front of a large basin with encrypted symbols etched into its sides. A grey liquid filled it, floating in a gentle current vaguely resembling smoke.

Snape sullenly looked at her from over the basin. “A pensieve allows us to revisit memories. One extracts a memory to view and places it inside the basin. Once you dip into the liquid you get to view the moment once more.”

She nodded, even though he didn’t elaborate on exactly how you extracted a memory. “How is this going to help someone like me? I can’t exactly remember anything specific for you to extract.”

“Yes, I’ve already taken that into consideration. This might not work, but I think that it is worth testing. It is feasible that if we try to extract a memory, any memory, then we can unlock where they are being kept.”

Nerves prickled in the pit of her stomach as she stood over the pensieve. Perhaps it was better if she was left in the dark. Neither of them knew what had been erased and maybe they shouldn’t go messing in waters they knew nothing about.

She had come to accept the fact that the memories of her childhood would be lost forever. She hadn’t calculated that there might be a chance of recovering them and what that might mean for her. Fears that she had concluded wouldn’t ever matter began to rattle in the drawer she locked them in.

Snape noticed her hesitancy. “Are you afraid of extracting them, or are you afraid of what we might find?”

She swallowed thickly and met his dark eyes with apprehension, “Both.”

He straightened his spine and uncrossed his arms. “Maybe if I demonstrated how it worked, it would be better for you to understand, yes?”

She tilted her head, as he lifted his wand to his temple and closed his eyes. When he retracted his wand, a strand of wispy silver followed it, pulsing softly. He tapped the substance into the pensieve and she came closer to see the wisp become enveloped in the docile current. 

“Now, follow my lead.” He said it easily before dipping his face into the basin causing Ember to balk. It was comical how sometimes magic was just purely incomprehensible. It was curious that she felt that way and she often wondered what factory settings she had been left on.

Snape had carefully selected a memory that would not reveal too much of himself. She had already seen far more from their occlumency sessions than he would have liked. He dropped into the memory with practiced ease and she stumbled down after him. The two of them stood in the Great Hall on the edges of a crowd.

Students crowded around one of the long tables, excitedly chattering. It was mostly the younger years Ember realized but she didn’t recognize any of the faces. A thin man was gallivanting on top of the table motioning for the children to quiet down. She glanced to Snape who was standing next to her looking at the scene, disinterested. 

“In light of recent dark events, Dumbledore has allowed me to conduct a dueling club so that you might gain the experience should you ever need to protect yourself.” The man was smiling charmingly and practically sashaying back and forth in front of the students. Ember once again looked to Snape who was rolling in eyes at the man’s antics. 

The chatter of the students picked up at the introduction, gossip flying from lips in quick streams. The man raised his arm towards the end of the table, “Please help me welcome my assistant, Professor Snape!”

Ember’s eyes widened as a slightly younger version of the Snape she currently stood next to appeared out of the crowd and practically floated up to the top of the table besides the other professor. 

The younger Snape look just as displeased as the one next to her and she felt herself developing whiplash looking between the two.

“Now don’t worry,” The professor assuaged. “You’ll still have your potions master when I’m through with him.”

The younger Snape met the professor in the middle of the table. They both raised their wands before flicking them to their sides and bowing to each other. With a flourish they turned and walked back a few paces before facing each other again and assuming stances. 

The professor counted down from three and before he could finish the last syllable, the younger Snape pronounced, “Expelliarmus!”

Sparks erupted from his wand and crashed into the other professor, sending him flying backwards and landing with a harrumph. A series of chuckles washed over the students and the younger Snape stood quiet proudly looking down at his rather unworthy opponent.

“Excellent idea to show them that Professor Snape,” The professor began as he jumped back up to his feet and approached the potions master once more. “But I must say it was pretty obvious what you were about to do and if I had wanted to block it, it would have been only too easy.”

The younger Snape looked unswayed. “Perhaps it would be advisable to first show the students how to block unfriendly spells.” He punctuated the sentence with a tight smile that was only slightly taunting. Ember laughed, before trying to cover it up with a cough, causing the Snape she knew to smirk down at her.

“What an excellent suggestion!” The professor exclaimed showing no animosity to the snub. He turned and looked towards the crowd. “How about we have a few volunteers? Ah, Potter, Weasley how about you?” He pointed towards two small students that Ember would never have recognized as two thirds of the golden trio from this far. 

Before the two could so much as utter and answer, the younger Snape interjected, “Weasley’s wand causes devastation with even the simplest of spells. We’ll be sending Potter to the hospital wing in a matchbox.”

Ember felt slightly bad for the ginger who she could see was brimming with embarrassment, and wondered slightly why his wand was in such a state. “Might I suggest someone from my own house?” He proposed holding his arms out with a subtle smugness only Snape could deliver. “Malfoy?” He suggested and before it could be refuted, the younger Snape turned and pointed for his recommendation to meet Potter.

Ember’s heart pounded as a young Draco jumped onto the table. His hair was slicked back in a different style to the usual way she had always seen him wear it. He obviously had learned that there was such a thing as too much gel. He wore an almost cruel smirk as he brought his wand out from his cloak and swaggered to meet Potter in the middle.

“Wands at the ready!” The professor commanded backing away from the pair. 

The children enemies raised their respective wands and muttered something to each other that Ember couldn’t hear. Their wands dashed to the side, both exempting the bow, and took five paces back before taking their stances. 

“On the count of three cast your charms to disarm your opponent. I stress, you are only to disarm.” The professor reprimanded.

He had only counted to two before Draco flourished his wand and exclaimed, “Everte Statum!” The spell hit Harry straight on and sent him spiraling through the air before he crashed on his stomach.

Ember felt her mouth open at the blind unfairness of Draco. He had always griped about Harry always being privileged at school but clearly Draco was a Slytherin through and through; cunning to the point of dishonorable.

The young Harry recovered quickly and before the flourishing professor could say anything, Harry pointed his wand at Draco and screamed, “Rictumsempra!” Yellow sparks darted out of his wand and hit the young Draco right in his chest sending him flying through the air. The younger Snape side stepped out of his way to avoid a collision and let the blonde boy land harshly on his back. He looked up at the potions professor who scowled and quickly lifted him back up by the scruff of his collar, thrusting him back into the duel.

The young Draco collected his composure and shouted, “Serpensortia!” 

A green viper burst from his wand and landed viciously before the startled younger Harry. Ember shuddered, whether it was because of the younger Draco’s smug face of victory or the snake reminding her of her own dwelling with a snake she was particularly un-fond of, she couldn’t tell. 

Harry looked visibly uncomfortable as the snake slithered slowly towards him, before taking a detour and hissing at some of the students. A few girlish screams echoed around the hall as the students collectively took several steps away from the table.

The young Snape strode forward. “Don’t worry, I’ll get rid of it for you Potter.”

But before he could raise his wand, the young Harry was stepping closer to the snake as if he was transfixed, strange hissing noises coming off of his lips. The snake slowly turned singularly upon one student and looked just about ready to lunge.

The young Snape leaped forward, pointing his wand at the snake. “Viper Evanesca!” The snake began to unravel before them until it was vanished from the duel.

The memory faded into smoke before her eyes, blurring everything into only shapes and colors. She felt a tug on her arm before she blinked and reemerged from the pensieve. An unconscious gasp sprung from her lungs as if she had been coming up from holding her breath under water. She looked to a calm Snape with wide eyes. “That was,” She took a deep breath and continued, “That was insane! How long ago was that? Who was that other professor?”

Snape leaned back to sit on the edge of his desk. “That was in their second year. The oaf was Gilderoy Lockhart. He was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that year. He was a famous author that cultivated fake stories that he stole from better wizards using their…memories.” He trailed off with a curious look. There might be something to learn from what happened to Lockhart about their current situation. He placed a pin in the puzzling thought.

“That’s mad that you can just relive memories like that.” Ember still had a vibrantly enticed look in her eyes as she looked to her mentor. “Do you really think we could find some of mine?”

Snape crossed his arms back over his chest with an unimpressed expression. “I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t. Did that help with your apprehension?”

She nodded staring back at the extraordinary device, “I think so.” She was still nervous even after seeing the extraordinary workings of the pensieve. It was then that she realized, on the precipice of knowledge, that while she was concerned with what she might discover, she was more tormented by the idea that it wouldn’t work. She glanced back into his unyielding brown eyes and hated that she knew he could see her anxiety. She was only grateful that he didn’t call her out on it like he might have anyone else.  
“You’re going to extract them, right?” He nodded. She nibbled on her bottom lip, “Will it hurt?”

“Some pressure but no pain,” He said conversationally as he stood up from the desk and held out the tip of his wand towards her. 

She took a deep breath before leaning her head towards him, trusting him enough to not twist this around into some sort of power grab as Draco might have suggested, and let the tip of his wand rest on her temple. She had spent enough time the past year with him to know that there were layers of Snape and that he possessed more morals than most thought. 

She closed her eyes, trying not to squeeze them together childishly. She waited patiently, with severe pressure pressing down on her mind, for several long moments before he finally managed to catch a silvery memory and deposit into the pensieve. He once again urged her to dip her face into the swirling liquid.

She gulped and plunged, spiraling into the forgotten moments of a past life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments?


	26. The Choices We're Left With

“And if the sadness won’t ever go away, I suppose I’ll build it a home so it has a nice place to stay.”  
-Tristan Prettyman, Don’t Work Yourself Up

They landed in an classroom. One wall was layered with windows that caused the afternoon sunlight to oversaturate in its intensity, vaguely giving the atmosphere a nostalgic tone. Some twenty odd desks were pushed haphazardly along the walls leaving a wide hole in the middle of the room. 

A young woman with the longest legs sat on the edge of the large desk at the front of the room, pointedly ignoring the perfectly good chair placed behind her. One of her legs was crossed over the other, hands clasping the edge of the desk, framing her as attentive. Her dark auburn hair was pulled up into a messy attempt at a professional bun, a few strands escaping and swooshing past her temples. She wore a pair of slick black rimmed glasses that didn’t distract from her pretty face, or the mischievous gaze that went hand in hand with the slight upturn of her ruby painted lips. She was the kind of beauty that was understood and could not be debated. Confidence and nonchalance bounced off of her in waves as she stared fondly at the center of the classroom.

A girl was bent low to the ground, wearing a black dress that was tight at the top and flared at the waist. She stood up tall on the very tips of her toes delicately, her thin arms spread out like a bird about to take flight. One foot raised to tap against her knee before she kicked it out with a dramatic point. Still balancing on pointe, she reached her arms high above her before spinning around in circles after circles. It was only when the figure slowed down that Ember noticed her own face blurred in the spins.

Though she wasn’t moving, Ember’s entire body seized tight like the strings of a viola. Her younger self span around and around in a perfect daze before slowly drifting into a staggeringly difficult pose and becoming as balanced and gracefully as a sensuous statue. The woman began to slowly clap, her smirk turning into an only partly concealed smile. The younger Ember relaxed her stance fluidly, her chest rising and falling rapidly; a familiar blush painting her cheeks.

The odd singular clapping came to an abridged halt. “That was beautiful Diane. Miss Adams has certainly been keeping a rigorous course.”

The younger Ember brought her hands to rest on her stomach delicately, still attempting to catch her breath. “You know I would prefer it was you Miss Georgina.”

Miss Georgina’s eyes softened considerably and she straightened her posture before hopping to her feet gracefully. “And I would prefer to be the one to teach you. I suppose we’ll both just have to settle for me simply being your French professor.”

A frown marred the soft face of the younger Ember. She leaned forward and hesitantly whispered, “Did it really happen as they’re saying it did?”

Miss Georgina rose a perfectly plucked brow. “That depends on what is being said.”

The younger Ember chewed on her bottom lip. A wrinkle formed in between her brows as her eyes debated. “They are saying that you snuck a man in. That the two of you were caught in a…compromising position in the studio.”

The woman sighed deeply. “That, unfortunately, is true.” She walked back around her desk, distancing herself from the inquisitive girl. “It was lucky that Mrs. Cornetta only took my dance classes away. I suspect when they find a suitable replacement for my French classes, I will be politely asked to leave the premises.”

“Why?”

Miss Georgina tilted her head, “Why what, honey?”

The younger Ember shifted on her feet. She swayed awkwardly with her fingers fumbling over each other. “Why did you sneak a man in here?”

The French professor paused in her rearrangement of the books scattered across her desk. “It’s silly to have a ban on men entering the premises.” A bitter scowl contorted her beautiful face. “How are young ladies meant to learn about boys if you never socialize with them?” She slammed one book on the other, before the anger simmered out and she smoothed her fingers over the bindings. “The truth is simple. Love tends to exceed boundaries and restrictions.”

“Is it really worth getting sacked?” The younger Ember asked with bewildered eyes.

An elegant smile spread across her lips and showed through her eyes. “Yes. I’ll find another position, one that isn’t so confining; but I’ll never find another Enzo. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you’ll understand someday.”

Although the words were meant to be encouraging and soothe the pain caused, the young girl only seemed to look more disconcerted. Taking pity on the girl, Miss Georgina shifted subjects. “Now if you continue to focus, you will undoubtedly get the Mumford’s Scholarship this spring.” She paused as if waiting for an excited response, and when she received none, continued. “Then maybe you’ll be able to branch out and finally space yourself from those oppressive parents of yours.”

A deep shiver ran through the younger Ember, who quickly paced over to a rounded bag sitting on one of the forgotten desks. She pulled out a fluffy cream cardigan and swiftly pulled it on. She sat daintily on the desk, her hands folded neatly in her lap, but her face showed her dejection. “I’m not sure that would be possible Miss Georgina, even if I did get the scholarship.”

Miss Georgina, who had always had a soft spot for the soft spoken girl who tried desperately to be nothing more than a fixture in every room, frowned but was not surprised as the girl closed in on herself. “Is there anything I can do, honey?”

The sad girl smiled sweetly up at the woman. “No ma’am. Just being you has been enough.” She glanced out the window and stood up suddenly as if just noticing the hour.   
“Would it be okay if I came back tomorrow to show you my new sequence?”

The French professor leaned back against the desk with a soft smile of her own. “Of course Diane, you know you are always welcome.”

The younger Ember grinned, encouraged, before picking up the discarded bag and rushing out of the classroom. 

A hand grasped Ember’s shoulder, as she was watching Miss Georgina shake her head sadly, and she startled. Looking over her shoulder, the dark brown eyes of Severus Snape questioned her further than his mouth ever would. She had completely forgotten that she was not alone in the middle of a forgotten memory. She felt a tug, and was rudely snatched from the recollection and deposited back in the drastically dark Headmaster’s office.

Stumbling, with a sharp gasp, Ember fell into the conveniently placed chair clutching tightly to the desk. Her mind was whirling as she stared at the glow of the pensieve, avoiding the eyes of Snape. “Did you see all of that?” She asked.

He nodded, and even though she could not see, she understood his silence. The new Headmaster had not truly been expecting this first attempt to actually give them a memory from her past. Unexpected were the things that occurred when this girl was involved.

Ember wrapped her arms around herself. She felt light-headed and could hear the adrenaline pumping through her veins and feel her temple begin to throb. A picture of herself, she couldn’t have been older than thirteen, spinning, flashed in a continuous loop. She had just revisited a memory and she hadn’t remembered any of it. Even now, she could not recall anything past what she had just seen. There was no jogging of other moments, no puzzle pieces sliding together. It was surreal: to see and not remember your own past. “I was a dancer.” She whispered to herself as if tasting the phrase.

“And it seems you did attend school, for a time anyway.” Snape mused, allowing himself to sink into his own chair across from her. Ember made no further comment, still staring at the glow of the pensieve as if trying to distinguish if it was a gift. “Why did the woman call you Diane?” 

Not removing her fixated stare on the hovering basin, she answered almost numbly. “My middle name is Diane. Maybe I used to go by that name instead of my own?” Once the words left her lips it was as if a trigger had pulled and Ember snapped her eyes to Snape. If she had been asked point-blank what her middle name was a minute before, she would not have been able to recall. 

“Or maybe your parents registered you under a different name. The question is why, if you were attending a muggle school. No one would know who you were.”  
Ember frowned. It was just another thing to uncover.

“Can you remember anything else?” Snape prodded after a moment.

She shook her head, eyes still somewhere far away. “No. Can we try again?” She asked standing back up and leaning over the pensieve. 

Snape’s jaw tightened at the enigmatic daze she was in. “I think that’s more than enough for today. Return to the manor. Maybe this will jog something in the coming days. On Thursday we’ll try again.”

She deflated a little. She was already overwhelmed and distracted; it would be best not to press their luck. She nodded, “Thursday it is then.” She gave one more lingering glance to the pensieve before twisting on the spot before Snape could say another word.

~

She returned just outside the back garden as the last rays of sun stroked across the horizon in oranges and yellows. While the sky was relatively clear, her mind felt cluttered. She took several deep breaths before walking back into the cage of a manor, hoping that no unwanted guests were about tonight.

Having the Malfoy Manor auctioned up as the main headquarters for all things sinister made it nearly impossible to walk around a corner without running into a Death Eater. If it wasn’t the Carrows, it was Rowle, or Dolohov, or god forbid Bellatrix. Draco’s aunt didn’t visit as often as the others, and when she was here it was more for her sister than anything that dealt with Voldemort’s plans. 

It was widely known amongst the community that Ember and Bellatrix did not necessarily get along. For Bellatrix’s part, she treated Ember like a doll who was simultaneously dull and yet intelligent enough to drift Draco away from the formed path. No matter how many times Narcissa argued differently, Bellatrix had been suspicious of her from the start, and that Voldemort found her to be important was a further annoyance. Ember found Bellatrix to be completely deranged and entirely unpredictable, even more so than Voldemort, and that put her on edge.

Ember silently stepped through the door to the veranda. Originally her plan was to return to her and Draco’s room, but due to the hour she knew that the possibility of Draco already lounging across their bed in a stupor was high. She couldn’t walk in there and face his deafening silence while trying to mull over her tumbling thoughts. Instead, she took a wayward turn and entered the almost forgotten atrium.

It was the only room in the manor that did not feel confining and the only room she would be able to process her thoughts. She hadn’t frequented the serene room as often as she would have liked. Mostly because on occasion one of the house’s many reoccurring guests would wander upon her and jeer at her for entertainment, but the room as lovely as it was, was still attached to the detestable house. It was easier to spend her time outside, where she could at least pretend things were different and that she was someone else, somewhere else, with someone else’s problems.

But for right now, this was just where she needed to be. She sat down on the edge of the fountain, crossing her legs beneath her, and stared down at the gliding koi fish as they swam leisurely in circles.

She was nothing but swissed cheese. Random holes were punched through her without any regard to the consequences. To have had a whole past life, with past experiences and past relationships that had been blown away like disagreeable dust was not a welcomed feeling. The true atrocities her parents had committed against her had been discovered months ago and she had learned to accept the fact for what it was. Now, a small piece had been given back to her and it left unlocked feelings of hurt and deep betrayal that she had been repressing. 

To know that she had a hobby, besides reading, that she had excelled at, only to realize that it had been ripped away from her made her want to drown in tears. If something as superficial as a hobby had been stolen from her, there was no telling what else had been erased as well. 

Parts of her had been snatched away leaving her to create herself in whatever was left. She was made up of spare parts deemed unimportant and left to rust upon the wicked. Things from the past could not define her because they were not accounted for. A pawn was good for nothing but measured attempts to ease the plights of others. But if a pawn refused to be used as such and began to play a game of their own, they could convince other pawns to rise against, and together they could take the King for all he was were worth. It was poor timing that Ember realized this in the den of the damned.

~

When she woke the next morning it was with a stubbornly pleasant mood. The time away from the manor the day before had lifted just enough of a cloud. There was no rule that she had to stay in the manor at all times. 

She dressed quickly in the one swimsuit she had; a navy blue one piece. She threw on one of the few skirts she owned and casually stole one of Draco’s more casual button down shirts. 

She was placing a few necessities in a small backpack when Draco woke up with a groan. These days it was extremely rare for Draco to wake up before Ember; usually she was already having tea with Narcissa by the time he stumbled down the stairs. Ember barely gave him a glance as she moved throughout their room with ease.

His long arms were still clutching the pillow beneath him as his blurry eyes watched her pace around the room curiously. “What are you doing?” He croaked after a moment through dry lips.

She paused just long enough to pull her hair into a high pony tail and tied it off with a brown string. “I’m going for a swim.”

He relinquished his pillow and sat up. Still half asleep, he rubbed his face and blinked rapidly a few times. “Swimming? Where are you going to swim?” He asked condescendingly. 

“By the large pond.” She stated matter-of-factly, choosing to ignore the narrowing of his cold eyes. “It’s just under a mile east of here. Your father showed me on a map the other day.”

He blinked, even more confused, and began to splutter. He had been entirely unaware that Ember regularly had conversations with his family at this point. “Well you can’t just go there!” He said incredulously. 

She placed a thin book into her bag, arching a brow up at him. “And why not?”

Draco gestured sloppily towards the window. “We can’t just leave.”

She tilted her head, her hair swinging behind her at the movement, with a calm expression. “And who said that?”

His head began pulsing in protest. Whether it was because it was too early for arguments or he needed a fix, was unclear. It was clear, however, that her calm resolute disposition was prickling at his anxiety. “He could come at any moment, Em.”

She licked her lips, giving a disappointed sigh, and gazed at him sadly. “You can’t just waste your life away waiting for him to come barging through the door.”

He gave her a dumbstruck look.

She huffed and tossed the backpack around her shoulders. “Well you can, but I won’t. If he really needed us he has a direct line.” She reminded him, lifting her left arm and waving around her mangled dark mark. She turned towards the door, not sparing him another glance. “I’ll be back by supper, I promise.”

The door closing behind her rattled Draco.

His breathing picked up steadily. Had she forgotten that outside was not safe and that they were all on the brink of a war? Shit, he thought with horror. Did she even remember how to swim?

Merlin, he knew it gets boring staying here every day but couldn’t she understand that the safest spot for them was right where they were? They had showed their hand, and if she ran into anyone from the wizarding world that wasn’t already connected to the Death Eaters, it was a recipe for disaster. She could very easily be hurt. Fuck, if anyone knew how important she was to Voldemort they could easily kidnap her.

The anxiety twisted his stomach into vicious knots. He wouldn’t be able to sit in their room and wonder what was happening to her for hours. It had been bad enough that she had easily let Snape, fucking Snape, whisk her away to Hogwarts without complaint yesterday. 

Growling, he threw his legs off the side of the bed and began clamoring to put on clothes and shoes. He hopped with only one pant leg on and desperately crawled across the unmade bed to grab his wand off the nightstand.

He flew down the stairs in a mad dash to reach her before she left and just managed to catch a glimpse of that flowy skirt before the front door closed. He almost slipped when his shoes skidded against the marble floor of the foyer. Damn his mother and her incessant need to wax the floors.

He wrenched open the door and slammed it behind him, furiously still buttoning up his shirt. Ember was swaying, with a high amount of unbelievable pep in her step, down the long path way to the front gate. “Em!” He shouted, jumping down the few entry steps and jogging to catch up to her.

She turned at the sound of her name, or rather the nickname he had given her, and blocked the shining sun with her hand. A grin easily spread across her pink lips at the sight of a bedraggled Draco rushing down the path.

He met her quickly enough, only slightly out of breath. She smiled up at him, “You’re not going to try and convince me to stay are you?”

He huffed, his hands resting on his hips as he looked down at her. She looked so beautiful; so casual- something she rarely ever was. The sunshine emphasized the slight dusting of freckles around her nose and she was smiling so sweetly up at him. It knocked the wind out of him when he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her smile. It must have been before their still unresolved fight at Hogwarts. “No,” He assured easily enough. He’d try anything to keep that smile on her face, even if part of him was screaming at him that it was unsafe. He was stumped as she continued to gaze at him, he hadn’t really known what he would say when he caught up to her. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, his anxiety swirling at his decision. “I’m joining.” 

If it was possible, her smile grew three times larger and she nodded at him pertly before turning back around and continuing her trek down to the front gates. He followed behind her obediently. He patted at his wand in his pocket, assuming that if they did meet any unfriendly faces, that he would be able to protect her.

She wanted to reach out and clasp his hand in hers, but didn’t want to risk shattering his moment of clarity. It was nice, she hadn’t even asked, or hinted, for him to come along. She had only secretly hoped, as she often did, that he would want to join her.

They left the gate, and all the dreariness, behind them and began walking down the dirt path, east, next to fields of overgrown grass and weeds. Draco continuously looked behind them, unnecessarily afraid of cars creeping up on them or, even more absurdly, a Death Eater appearing behind them prepared to drag them back to the manor. Ember shook her head knowing that they would be able to hear a car’s engine long before it ever reached them, but did not mention this to him. The only sounds were the chirping of crickets, the crunch of the gravel beneath their shoes, and their breaths.

“Why are we walking Em?” He asked, after looking over his shoulder once more. His already throbbing head was hammering witch cackled like laughs against his skill. The blaring sun, that was accentuating her lovely glow made him feel as if death was on his doorstep. It was so bright and he was already sweating out the small amount of water his body was retaining these days. He was idly wondering if more alcohol would help or hinder this situation. He should have brought that bottle of whiskey he hid underneath their bed for emergencies.

“Well, we can’t apparate there; I’ve never seen it before. And there isn’t a car, not that we could drive one anyway.” She reasoned.

“I should have brought my broom. Fuck, I could probably still summon it from here.” He stopped in the middle of the road and turned back towards the manor that by now was just a black spec in the distance. Raising his wand, he prepared to summon his Nimbus 2001.

He paused though as Ember’s hand brought his arm back down to his side. She shook her head at him when he gave her a questioning look. “Haven’t you ever done anything the muggle way?”

He frowned. Why would anyone want to do anything the muggle way?

She started walking again, “Besides a walk would be good for you.”

He rolled his eyes only once, hidden from her gaze, but he indulged her all the same.

They made it further down the lonesome road in relatively peaceful silence. While she embraced the sunshine on her face and the gentle breeze on her cheeks she couldn’t help but notice the miserable grimace on Draco’s face next to her. She paused once more and twisted around to rummage through her backpack.

Draco stopped next to her curiously. It took her a moment, but when she twisted back around she was holding his pair of dark tinted sunglasses that he mostly just kept for looks. He gave her an awed look as she handed them over to him. She only smiled at him smugly, looped her thumbs through the straps of her bag, and continued her journey.

He shook his head after her, wondering how she knew he would follow her. He smirked, using muscles he forgot he had, and slipped the glasses on before jogging to catch up to her. His mind calmed slightly at the sweet relief to his headache and bumped his shoulder into hers casually. She smiled secretly to the ground before returning his bump.


	27. Rickety Docks

“I don’t want your good advice, or reasons why; I’m alright. You don’t know what it’s like.”  
-Katelyn Traver, You Don’t Know

The couple reached the pond just as the sun was reaching its highest peak. Ember was elated to find that the pond had a small fishing dock attached to the end and that there was a big oak tree that provided the perfect amount of shade. She moved beneath the tree lithely and placed her bag on the ground. 

Draco crossed his arms and leaned against the trunk of the tree. He steadily scoured over their surroundings, looking for any type of threat that might be lurking. It did not appease him when he found nothing out of the ordinary. There were no landmarks of any kind besides the pond and the road, and consequently no one around.

Her skirt flared out dramatically as she knelt down in the grass and began to pull out a thick folded cloth from the backpack. The shirt she wore lifted up just enough in her wrestle with the object that it showed a delicate sliver of skin from where the back of her bathing suit dipped. Draco’s mouth watered in a way that had nothing to do with his dehydration. His eyes squinted closer at the white shirt that clad her body, skeptically. “Is that my shirt?”

She twisted, a little too quickly, looking up at him with caught eyes and a deep blush. “Um, yes. I hope you don’t mind but all my cardigans would be too hot for this weather.”

Draco bit his bottom lip appreciatively. There was always something so sensual a woman wearing a piece of their partners clothing. It must have something to do with the basic instinct of needing to mark your partner. Whatever is was, Draco was enamored by her outfit. In fact, he had never seen her in anything but dresses and her Hogwarts uniform. This was a very pleasant change. She looked like a little adventurer that just ventured out of the forgotten woods.

He realized that it had been too long since she spoke. Ember, flustered, turned from him and began to unravel a light yellow blanket over the patchy grass. She sat down gracefully and fumbled to pull out napkins, bottles, and tupperware. She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

He cautiously sat down beside her. “It looks great on you, sweetheart. Take all my clothes if you want.”

She smiled into her chest and reached for a large tin bottle, elated by the fact that he had called her sweetheart (something he hadn’t done in weeks), unscrewed it, and handed it over to him. “Drink. You’re too dehydrated.”

He greedily took the bottle from her and gulped down nearly half of the water. Immediately it eased his silently retreating headache. Now, far less parched that he was a moment ago, he watched her uncover everything she had unpacked to reveal a variety of food. Two sandwiches, a plethora of berries and nuts, and he clearly spotted a mighty helping of the banana bread from supper the night before.

He eyed her with astonishment as she divided the food and pushed some towards him on an uncovered cloth before delving into her own sandwich. She gazed out over the sparkling water with a content look.

It was clear that she had planned this last minute excursion thoroughly, even accounting for him to follow her when he had insisted that it was a foolish idea. It was so entirely sweet, filling his stomach with hot gooey glittering honey. She was a thoughtful fairy fluttering around him bestowing little bouts of warmth like the summer breeze. Instead of starting a conversation, he took a big bite of his own sandwich and followed her gaze and a peace-filled silence settled over them.

The silence was nice and lulling. He hadn’t realized how different silences could be. There were the silences that were awkward and stretch out endlessly and there were the silences that were taut with tension- like the silences that filled the halls of Malfoy Manor, but then there were silences that left nothing but cleared air and manifested breathing room. They were as relaxing as they were rare, and Draco bathed in the companionable silence he would find with no one else.

When there was nothing but crumbs now littering the blanket, Ember stood up and kicked off her sandals. “Swimming?” She questioned, starting to unbutton his shirt that she was wearing.

Asking him anything while she was undressing was always going to be a failed endeavor, but he did his best to swallow down his lust and wrench his eyes from the slivers of skin she began to reveal to only to rest them on her green, slightly mischievous, eyes.

“Do you even remember how to swim?” 

She grasped the side of her skirt before unlatching the small clasp and unwarily began to unzip the small zipper tantalizing. The skirt pooled at her feet revealing those perfect long legs that he wanted to worship. She looked back at him with pursed lips and shrugged. “I think so. I don’t remember ever swimming but my body feels like it remembers.”

It was entirely bizarre the way she spoke of how her mind spoke to her; both beautiful and tragic. He sighed and stood up from the blanket, beginning to unbutton his own shirt. “Hell, I don’t know if I remember how to swim it’s been so long.” 

She smiled at him and turned, walking forward and stepping barefoot onto the small creaking dock. He watched her gaze out at the sparkling water as he stripped down to his pants. With his impromptu rush to reach her, they would have to do in place of traditional swim trunks.

She continued to stare at the water for a long while. He did nothing but admire her. The navy one piece hugged her slight curves in a way he had never seen them. Her long hair blew lightly with the breeze, her creamy skin shined in the reflective light from the water like tiny glittering diamonds. Suddenly, like an epiphany, she jumped off the dock and became submerged in the water with a splash.

Startled, he jogged to the dock, entirely prepared to jump in after her and save her forgetful self from drowning, but as he got to the edge her face resurfaced and she giggled. It was almost childlike; light and gleeful, and made her all the more endearing. She looked up at him with a smile he hadn’t seen before and splashed in the water, twirling around like an otter.

Her laugh was contagious and he breathed out an amazed laugh of his own. She blushed at his overwhelming gaze of adoration and was unprepared as he launched his body in the air and came down next to her with a splash, sending little droplets onto her face. He resurfaced with a smile, glad that he had managed to toss his sunglasses off so that he could take in her twinkling emerald eyes without the unflattering filter.

She put a little more space between them, uncomfortable with the lascivious expression he was giving her, and instead began to swim in little circles around him. Perhaps it was the muscle memory from her apparent years of dancing, but she reveled in how effortless it was to twist and turn her body through the water; as if it was second nature. Maybe though her mind forgot, her body had always remembered, and that thought was comforting.

Draco watched her spin around him in dazing circles, before he reached out and caught her around her waist. She floundered slightly as she was suddenly pressed up against his slicked bare chest. She had seen peeks of him so scantily clad when he unashamedly dressed in front of her, she had spent nights in his welcoming arms, had kissed his lips, but this was different. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the water and her lack of apparel or if it was because she hadn’t truly been this close to him in weeks that caused her heart to leap into her throat. Or maybe it was just Draco himself; perhaps he would always cause her heart to leap.

He smiled sweetly, encouragingly, at her as she hesitantly wrapped her arms around his neck; the two of them still twirling slowly around in the water. She smiled and brushed the wet blonde hair out of his softening eyes. She had missed him terribly. He had just become a ghost; drunk off masochistic pain, wafting through rooms, always bringing a shadow of gloom with him wherever he went in an already gloomy environment.

Here, he was sober and smiling; looking at her like she was the most beautiful girl in the world. It made her insides form into gelatin, and when he leaned down slowly, she let him kiss her with unwasted lips. 

He pulled her closer, urging her to wrap her wonderful legs around his torso. When she did, he squeezed her to him tighter, sucking on her bottom lip greedily. Though she loved his kisses and his attention, there was a part of her that worried, as he got more aggressive, that he was just looking for something else to numb the pain. She wouldn’t let herself become his new addiction.

Ember broke the kiss with a slightly timid smile and hugged him to her. She relished this moment of his clarity. She wasn’t fool enough to believe that it would last.

~

After a relaxing, cooling, swim, the couple reluctantly climbed out of the pond, shriveled up like prunes, and laid out on the blanket to air dry in the sun. Ember had laid down first and to remove the temptation of the slow water droplets chasing down her alluring skin, Draco laid his head on her taut stomach and watched as she picked up whatever book she had been reading and opened it to her last bookmarked page. 

He was content enough to sit quietly and watch her read, for once not thinking much about anything or the problems that awaited him. And he would have gladly continued gazing at her forever, but one of her hands began to trail through his slowly drying hair and with the quiet sounds of the crickets chirping and pages turning he drifted off into the first peaceful dream he had in months.

Well, at least it started off quiet and peace-filled, but the longer he remained sleeping against Ember in a welcoming intimacy, the more panic encroached into his sleep. Dreams of swimming with his wife in the tranquil pond were soon dissolved into dark clothed figures taking the girl beneath him away, her undimming light leaving with her and leaving him alone in the darkness. The faces underneath the hoods shifted. It started off with Voldemort’s own inhuman face before fading to his father’s and finally twitching into the egregious scowl of Severus Snape. He instinctually knew, even in his unconsciousness, that he was missing something important that had to do with Snape.

Ember felt Draco twitch and his breathing change before he blinked confusedly up at the leaves of the tree they were perched under. She thumbed her book, Lenny being a hair too rough with a bunny could be left for later, and placed it down next to them.

Draco arched his neck to get a better look at her. She resumed running her hands comfortingly through his now dry locks and gave him a small smile. “Hi,” She whispered.

His brows furrowed together and he swallowed thickly before asking, “What happened with Snape yesterday? He did just show up and take you right? I didn’t manufacture that?”

Her face gave nothing away except that she let her smile slowly fade into a calm expression. She didn’t even pause in her rhythmic hand motions against his scalp. “We apparated to Hogwarts where we figured out a way to uncover forgotten memories.”

He blinked at her, thinking that he must have misheard her. “It worked?”

“Yes,” She whispered, adding nothing more.

He sat up, leaving the comfort of her embrace, to look at her better. She didn’t reveal anything of what she must have been feeling inside and he suddenly felt cold at her brusque response. “And what did you find out? What did you remember?”

She pursed her lips, in a very Snape like fashion, at Draco’s eager face before she looked off back towards the pond, ignoring his inquiring crystal blue eyes. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to divulge her past memories with him. It was bad enough she had to share the experience with Snape. Could it be so wrong that after something so personal had been stolen that she might want to keep whatever was recovered for herself?

His face fell as the silence stretched between them; this time anything but peaceful. He hadn’t considered the idea that what she had discovered might be something she wished to leave behind. He took her hand in his and sighed inwardly when she laced their fingers together. He wouldn’t take the question back, but he wouldn’t push her either.

She nibbled on the corner of her lip. “I was a ballet dancer. I took classes at my old school.”

“A dancer?” He asked rhetorically, as if tasting the word. The more he thought about it, the more it made unbelievable sense. Ember was so graceful in nature, so politely demure, with perfect posture and those long legs. But there had to be more to it. There had to be a reason for her hesitance and distant gaze. “What else?” He whispered with a controlled voice.

She frowned as if being broken from a wonderful yearning daydream, and met his eyes. “That was it. It was just one memory. Snape invited me back on Thursday to try again.”

His hand squeezed hers. “How can that be it?”

“It’s not an exact science. You extract memories so that you may revisit them in a pensieve. We have no idea what memories might be locked which makes it difficult to uncover devastatingly important ones.” She looked back off towards the water sullenly, playing with his fingers in hers. “I’ll take what it gives me. It’s more than I could have hope for.”

Draco sighed, knowing that was the end of the conversation. He laid down, curling next to her, basking in the smell of fresh lavender and summer. She was thoughtfully quiet and he suddenly wished that he hadn’t brought the subject up at all. He couldn’t imagine what might be going through her head; what she kept bottled up inside. He wondered if she even knew what she was feeling, if certain feelings had been erased from her vernacular as well. He felt his heart stutter, somehow knowing that it was incredibly likely that she knew nothing of love.

His throat went dry and he lost all coloring in his face as he stared at her profile. His heart throbbed as he realized that he loved her and it was more or less unreciprocated. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, he knew that she cared about him even if it was only as a best friend with certain liberties, but how could she possibly be able to sort out her own feelings enough to know if she loved him or not? 

It scared him. It snuck up on him like a deadly disease destroying everything but her. The way she smiled, the way she laughed, the way that she dealt with everything thrown at her in pure grace. The way she stayed by his side when he was not himself. She could have easily walked away from him that night of the Battle of the Astronomy Tower, he had seen it in her eyes, but she had chosen to stay and be miserable with him. Her voice saying alone together rang in his ears. He loved her. Without noticing the fall, without realizing the deep strings he had attached to her, he had fallen in love with her. He wondered when it had changed; when she had gone from being nothing more than a luggage tag attached to him to being someone he couldn’t possibly live without, but he knew that it had happened long ago.

He felt his heart break as he thought about her life and how she might be feeling, or not feeling. He noticed her eyes get glassy with unshed tears; the only tell that whatever she was thinking was making her sad. He brought her closer into his chest, clinging her to him like a safety blanket and just held her. Whether it was for him or for her made little difference.

~

When the sun began to lower into the horizon, they packed up their beautiful escape leisurely, both loathe to return to the captive manor. A melancholic tone had shifted between them that no amount of cuddling could cure. When all was stored back into Ember’s backpack, Draco leaned down and gave her a simple kiss. He rested his forehead against hers, feeling the weight of the mistakes he had made the past few months crawling back into his shell. 

He wanted to tell her that he hadn’t meant any of it, that he never wanted things to happen this way, and that he hated that he wasn’t strong enough to deal with the fallout; but he was out of words and had no excuses to give and so he settled. “I’m sorry,” He whispered.

She slowly leaned back, staring at him with wide eyes. Suddenly an unexpected sob fell from her lips and she launched her arms around his neck, digging her face into his neck. He held her close but with a flummoxed face. 

As quickly as the embrace came, it was over and she was pushing herself off of him, wiping away unshed tears choking back a laugh at his expression. What he didn’t realize was that it was the first time he had ever apologized to her, and it meant more to her than even she could put into words.

She smiled at him before holding her arm out in a motion for him to grasp it, obviously planning on apparating them back to the manor. 

Draco shook his head and held out his hand to her, “Let’s walk back.”

~

Draco makes it another day before he returns to drinking. The return is slower, less debilitating, but there all the same. Ember dishearteningly watches as he slowly lowers himself back into the scotch, gin, and whiskey filled hole she had managed to lift him out of. She could admit it was different this time around. He would stay sober most of the day and drink most of the night where before he had started drinking before he even got up out of bed. 

His sarcastic remarks and snipping had lessened too. He was morosely quiet most of the time, lost in thoughts she could not try to decipher; almost like he was just trying to numb the edges instead of the whole picture. He was sweet with her, or at least as sweet as he can manage. They take walks together in the garden in the afternoon. He gives her chaste kisses and hand squeezes in passing, as if it was their very own secret language, and hugs her close when he drifts to sleep. She wished that she could extract him from the manor again, just to see if he might be the Draco she saw at the pond once more. She’d taken to hiding the bottles of liquor left in their room but it made no difference. Lucius kept an unwavering supply and Draco only needed to make two lefts and a right to reach it.

As the days passed, more Death Eaters began frequent the mansion. It seemed as if Ember could not step out of their room without passing Dolohov, Rowle, or Macnair. They looked at her differently, as if they didn’t know what to say. Most of them ignored Draco altogether or gave him snide remarks but with her they were more reserved, more calculating. It was clear to them that her loyalties began and ended with her husband and that her code of morals did not match theirs. They also knew that she was no idiot and that she was becoming well versed in how this hierarchy game was played. Young she may be, but foolish she was not. 

She ignored them as best she could, but their stares followed her long after their shadows disappeared. Their constant roaming brought the danger of Voldemort that much closer to her shores. She knew that she would not be forgotten forever and hoped that she would prove as valuable as he assumed. If not, both her and Draco were done for.  
It wasn’t until Wednesday afternoon that she developed the paranoia she had only ever seen in Draco.

Ember had been passing through the upstairs hallway when she passed the half closed door of Lucius’s study. She had been heading for the atrium the level below to read by the fountain, as it had been raining all morning, and had no plans to eavesdrop but paused just outside the door when she saw Bellatrix perched on the arm rest of her sister’s seat. 

She couldn’t quite make out their conversation as she leaned in closer. She only heard a mixture of Draco’s and her own name flung about in murmurs of plans, before she managed to catch Bellatrix’s attention. Those black eyes of hers caught Ember in a torrent of insanity and held her there with thin lips.

Ember broke their eye contact, noticing that Narcissa and Lucius had seen her as well. She bowed her head and licked her lips before continuing her way through the hallway and down the stairs.

She hoped that would be the end of it, despite them clearly speaking about her and Draco, but unfortunately that was not the end of the matter. It was much later when Ember was staring into the dripping water, trying to wrap her mind around all the emotions of Cathy leaving everything she had even known as nothing but ashes, that she felt a shadow loom over her from the entryway.

Her least favorite member of her family by law stood casually under the archway of the atrium. She wasn’t positive what it was about Bellatrix that made her inherently wary of her. It could have been a number of things. The ever present crazed look in her eyes, the wickedness of her smile, but Ember guessed it was more to do with her undying loyalty to her master that unnerved her the most.

The witch trapezed over to her with a nonchalant expression and slid next to her on the fountains edge. Ember watched her closely, her guards that were always at half-mast standing tall at attention.

“You know I had an arranged marriage.” Bellatrix spoke evenly, not caring to look at her niece in-law, as if it wasn’t something noteworthy or held much interest.  
It perked Ember’s ears though.

“My parents wanted my two sisters and I to continue the family tradition and marry pure-bloods. I wouldn’t have married someone less than that anyway, but I was getting older and they presented Rodolphus and I was obligated to accept.”

Ember wondered idly why this strange sister of Narcissa was busy telling her the woes of her love life, but remained guardedly silent.

Bellatrix smacked her lips with a casual expression. “I don’t love the man. I don’t need him. But we make a good team, a very good team. You and Draco have the same opportunity to make a good team.”

“I know.” Ember said tersely glancing back down at the book in her hands.

“You should have supported him.”

Ember heard her neck crack as she flung her eyes to her aunt in-law. Bellatrix was staring at her with derision, like a cat contemplating if the predestined prey would taste good enough. An anger filled Ember with a belly of fire at the accusation. “I did,” She hissed at the woman. “No matter what I thought of the situation, I have always supported him. He wanted nothing to do with me that night. And yes I don’t particularly want anything to do with the Death Eaters, I would much rather remain as unmarked as your sister, but I didn’t have much of a choice in that matter. I just wanted to stay out of the scuffle.”

Bellatrix tutted, eyes mocking her with mischief. “No, no sweet girl. You have not been supportive.” She laughed without and humor and waved dramatically. “You’re supposed to be this brilliant enigmatic wayward witch and you couldn’t have helped Draco over the finish line? Do not forget that I was there. You just stood to the side with your fucking doe eyes and quivering lip.”

Ember saw the exact shade of red that were Voldemort’s eyes lay over her vision like a fire-built filter. Her nostrils flared and her body tensed. “No matter what I would have done, Draco would never have been able to kill Dumbledore. He doesn’t have the heart for it. We both know that Voldemort gave him that mission as a fool’s errand. He never expected him to succeed.” Ember straightened, matching Bellatrix’s own casual body position with keen eyes. “In fact, I don’t think any of you expected him to succeed. You and Narcissa roped Snape into creating an unbreakable vow to swoop in and save him expecting this outcome. So don’t you sit on your high horse and tell me that I didn’t support him. I stayed up with him, I helped him with his classes, I made sure he ate and got enough sleep.” She shook her head laconically, “You don’t know what it was like for him. What it’s still like for him.”

Bellatrix’s eyes narrowed. “This is not the end for you two. Draco’s failures, whatever the cause, are now your own. Marriage is a contract that makes you equal and now the burden rests with you. Should you displease the Dark Lord, both you and Draco will be discarded with little more than a blink. You should see why this concerns me. My precious sister’s, my only sister’s, happiness lies with your choices. I am always watching you. My sister might love you, Severus might sing your praises, but I am not so easily persuaded to think you are everything they claim you to be.”

She stared at Ember for a long time, studying her thoroughly even though Ember schooled her face to seem as impassive as ever though the fire still burned within her. You could not show emotion with these people lest they run with it to barter. And when Bellatrix felt like she had intimidated the girl enough, she stood up and sauntered back out of the atrium.

Ember pursed her lips in her wake. As if she didn’t already know that everyone, everyone, had their eyes on her.


	28. Obliviate

“Will you see the same me if I showed you all of the pieces that don’t fit?”  
-Katelyn Traver, Feel Bad

Thursday, after a calming bought of uninterrupted tea with Narcissa, Ember apparated to Hogwarts on her own. She landed in the courtyard she had always frequented when she use to live in the castle and took the long way up towards the tower that would never truly be Snape’s.

She was surprised that when she knocked on the door, it opened wide and revealed a ragged looking Snape. She had never seen him out of his black robes, but he was sitting at his desk, his hair looking like he had been constantly raking his fingers through it, in a simple black tunic and slacks. He contradictorily looked ten years younger in ensemble but ten years older in the face.

She approached him hesitantly. “I can come back if this is a bad time?”

He gave her a wearied look, swirling a glass of firewhiskey. He rolled his eyes at her cautious look and magically shut the door behind her. “Now is as good a time as any.”

“Are you alright, professor?” She inquired. He was hollowed and grumpy as if every time he had been irritable in that past was nothing but a slight inconvenience.

“I hardly think it’s necessary that you call me professor anymore Ember.” He said off the cuff with a wave of his hand. “Call me Snape. Hell, call me Severus. I don’t care.” He began rubbing his temple languidly.

“Really, I can come back.” She insisted, already inching back towards the door. The last thing she wanted to do was find herself on Snape’s bad side just for the sake of a few memories.

He glared pointedly at her. “Please don’t let my ungentlemanly state deter you.” He stood up from his desk and staggered around to her. He flicked his wand and the pensieve revealed itself from a cabinet to her right. Suddenly, he was right in her space and placing his wand to her temple. Before she could stutter out a hesitance, he had plucked a memory from her mind and dashed it into the liquid of the pensieve.

He floundered back into his chair and poured another shot of firewhiskey into his glass. “You’ll go alone this time.”

She stared at him dumfounded that he would trust her to go alone when in reality there was no real reason for him to follow her. If she uncovered anything that she might need his input in they could always revisit the memory.

Without giving much more thought to the deteriorated Snape, or the reason why he was so, Ember dunked herself into the swirling liquid.

She was immediately thrown into a place she didn’t recognize. It was dark, late in the night by the looks of the windows, but she recognized the younger version of herself tiptoeing down a dark corridor. Ember paused before cautiously following her former self. She had never been one to go looking for trouble, or at least she had been convinced that she had never been one to go looking for it. 

Hurried whispers sounded from the last door of the hallway that had been carelessly left cracked open. Ember leaned forward, trailing behind her younger self, and strained to hear their words.

“You can’t be here.” A woman, who she thought might be Miss Georgina, implored. A certain hysteria trickled into her voice causing the small hairs on the back of Ember’s neck to stand at attention.

“I can’t stay away for another month.” A distinctively male voiced pleaded.

“You have to. If anyone, especially Mrs. Cornetta, catches us I’ll not only be terminated but I’ll be whipped in the streets. You know who governs the school.”

“Georgie, last time was a fluke. I would never let them hurt you, I promise.” His voice was soft, assuring.

“If you mean it you’ll leave this minute.” 

There were a few heavy footsteps, a moment of silence, and then, “I’m not leaving unless you come with me. You have nothing to keep you here. Come with me.”

“Yeah? And where would we go?”

“Anywhere! Anywhere that’s far away from this awful institution.”

“We both need this money before we can think of gallivanting anywhere.” She said darkly. 

The younger Ember froze as she shuffled closer, stepping on an inconvenient creaking floorboard. The voices went silent. The door swung open exposing Miss Georgina and an incredibly handsome man. Miss Georgina’s face was scrunched suspiciously before softening slightly at the sight of a trembling younger Ember.

The woman’s eyes darted to either side of the corridor, completely seeing through the Ember witnessing the whole ordeal, and roughly pulled the younger girl into the room. Ember had to rush to not be closed out of the conversation.

“What are you doing out roaming the halls this late Diane?” Miss Georgina asked accusingly hands placed on her hips with an authority that she clearly was only grasping at.

“I…” The younger Ember seemed entranced by the man hovering behind the professor. “I saw him scaling the wall through the windows of the dormitory.”

Miss Georgina froze before whipping a glare at the attractive man.

The younger Ember gulped noisily. “It’s time for Mrs. Cornetta to patrol. I didn’t want you to get into trouble.”

Miss Georgina’s face paled. The man pulled on her wrist, begging her to look at him.

The woman shook him off, grasping the younger Ember’s wrists instead. “Diane, go- run back to your room. You never saw anything. You were never here.” The young girl nodded, wide-eyed, and began to scurry from the room but not before Miss Georgina could place a kiss on her forehead. “Merci Cherie.”

The scene suddenly blurred in a silvery sponge of glopping mist before another memory was placed before her.

A large robust Italian woman was bearing down on the younger Ember with a nasty scowl. The young girl had tears streaming down her face sitting in a desk with her arms splayed out on the table. The woman swatted her wrists, leaving no doubt a sharp sting and a loud slap. “Tell me what you know you stupid girl!” The ugly woman sneered slamming her meaty hands onto the desk causing the younger Ember to flinched. “I know Miss Georgina had a visitor tonight and I know that is why I caught you out in the hall.”

The younger Ember’s cries were the only response the woman managed to capture. “I can see that scholarship vanishing, dolcezza. Tell me what you saw tonight and all will be forgotten.”

Still, the young girl only whimpered underneath the pinched face of superiority. 

“There are no men allowed on this campus. Did you see a man tonight?” Mrs. Cornetta stated point-blank. 

It took a moment, but the girl only shook her head rapidly.

Like a flash, a riding whip lashed down on the girls wrists, leaving ugly red marks. The younger Ember cried out, tears still steadily falling down her cheeks and splashing unseemly onto the desk. “Please! I don’t know anything. Miss Georgina has always been kind to me. I’m sure that she wouldn’t do anything to betray the code of conduct.”

A loud blaring alarm sounded from the corner of the office, and a bright red light blinked in high alert. Mrs. Cornetta huffed through her nose like a bull and swiveled her way to the apparatus. The younger Ember’s eyes danced around the room as if she was debating whether she could escape somehow or not.

Mrs. Cornetta wrenched a corded phone from the wall and hissed into the receiver, but Ember did not pay attention to the conversation for something began to rattle against the window softly. The younger Ember hadn’t noticed it yet, but the real Ember had.

The woman thrust the phone back to the wall, growling in agitation and pointed a thick finger at the young trembling girl. “I’m needed down the hall. When I get back here you’d better be in the same position and ready to talk!”

She left the room with an unladylike waddle and as soon as the door slammed shut behind her, a pebble flung through the window, effectively shattering the glass. The younger Ember shielded her eyes from the spray and only looked back up when she heard a whisper shouted, “Come quickly!”

Ember quickly strode to the window to see Miss Georgina and the handsome man from the memory before standing on the ground looking up. The younger Ember glanced back at the still closed door before rushing over to the window, crunching on glass as she rushed, and poked her head out. “What are you doing?” She asked fearfully.

“I’m leaving with Enzo, but I couldn’t leave without helping you. Come out the window and I’ll explain everything.”

Ember stared dubiously out the window, wondering how the woman could expect the thirteen year old to jump just because she simply asked, but the younger Ember barely hesitated as she threw her legs one by one over the windowsill and dipped down to clutch to the ledge.

The door began to rattle and the younger Ember let go, plunging down into the bushes from the second story window. A strangled scream resounding from the impact.  
The scene blurred again showing the party of three, Miss Georgina, Enzo and the younger Ember crouching in the lawn behind a statue of a woman standing at attention with picture perfect posture. The younger Ember was cradling her bleeding ankle to her chest and biting her lip painfully, thick tears still managing to roll down her face. Miss Georgina was fretting over the girl while Enzo was looking around the statue as windows began to light up across the campus. They had been caught, and by the odd angle of Ember’s ankle, the poor girls chances of ever being a true dancer vanished.

The scene dissolved just once more, to a darkened room only lit by two small lamps. The younger Ember was hanging her head, sitting on a couch being screamed at by a furious Blaine Knight. 

“How could any daughter of mine be so stupid?” He asked rhetorically. “What business is it of yours what that woman does? Now whatever muggle hopes we could have had for you are all but fucking shattered!”

Ember winced.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” The younger Ember began to sob clutching her swollen ankle in one hand and curling her other in on her chest. “I know I ruined everything. I know and I’m sorry.”

Blaine huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes heavily. “You are nothing. Nothing but an ungrateful idiotic girl. Shameful, useless, fool. Merlin, we never should have had you. You’re far more trouble than what your worth. Completely worthless squib.” He spat. The younger Ember’s sobs quelled as a heartbroken expression drooped her face. She sniffled and bowed her head as if accepting his words for truth. 

Ember looked upon the scene with a painful throbbing in her own heart, a tear falling down her own face.

“Blaine…” Olivia whispered, her voice strained. Ember hadn’t even noticed that her mother had been stood off to the side, watching the reprimand.

Blaine glanced at his wife, sighed, and uncrossed his arms.

“Her ankle…” Olivia breathed, gazing down at the whimpering little girl.

He huffed, gesturing wildly. “I’ll re-set it. Can’t be harder than fixing her eye sight, can it?”

Olivia nibbled on her lower lip, clasping her hands tightly to her chest. “I don’t know, it’s at an awful angle. Perhaps we should take her to St. Mungo’s.”

Blaine glared. “We can’t fucking take her to St. Mungo’s, Liv. Merlin, use your brain. We go there and every witch and wizard will know where we’ve been; that we have a daughter.”

Olivia grabbed his arm, glaring right back. “Then let’s take her to a muggle hospital! She needs proper medical attention. Your poor attempt at healing isn’t going to help here. She’s just going to slow us down if we can’t get it fixed.”

Blaine shook her off and pulled his wand out of his chest pocket.

The younger Ember’s eyes widened exponentially. Ember wanted to scream at herself to run, but could only look at the scene and stare at the heartless eyes of her father. “What is that?” The younger Ember stammered. “What are you going to do?”

“Shut up and sit still.” Blaine hissed bending down in front of her and taking her ankle roughly in his hand, ignoring her sharp scream of protest. He pointed his wand at the joint and yelled, “Episkey!”

A terrible crack sounded and the younger Ember screamed, the sound ear-splitting and tearing through Ember’s chest in waves of empathy. The limb corrected itself slightly before slipping back out of place. The screams continued, each more horrendous than the last.

“Dammit!” He hissed, wrenching her ankle back to him, without a glance to his sobbing daughter.

“Blaine!” Olivia gasped in horror, hovering over his shoulder.

“Episkey!” He shouted again, this time the bone correctly slipped back into place, but the swelling would not go down for weeks and the gash across her ankle seeped more blood onto the expensive rug.

When the younger Ember’s sobs quieted down due to sheer exhaustion, Blaine raised his wand back up in front of her face, terrifying her. Olivia grasped his shoulder. “Give her some time.”

Blaine shook his head. “We wait any longer and they’ll find us. We have to get moving.”

“Then maybe we should leave it be for now and wipe her later.” Olivia suggested, unable to take her eyes off the injured ankle.

“No,” Blaine protested. “I’ll do it again if I have to. I’m not listening to her whining and questions for the next twenty-four hours.”

Olivia flinched but did nothing to stop her husband.

His wand lifted again, the younger Ember’s terribly confused eyes bounced from him to the wand, her chest still wracked with uneven breaths. Blaine swallowed, his stern visage sharpened with his concentration. He pointed his wand and twisted slowly, “Obliviate.”

The tip of his wand illuminated and Ember watched on as her memories evaporated into thin air. The younger Ember’s face drenched and twisted in desperation slowly smoothed, eyes hallowing and glassed over as if her mind was returning to its’ factory settings. 

Ember couldn’t help the sob that escaped her throat at the sight.

The girl was nothing but a doll, before her face twisted with pain- but silent she remained. She blinked dramatically, slowly reaching a finger up to her own cheek and gathering the last tear that was still streaming its way down her face. She pulled her finger away and gazed quizzically as if unsure what the liquid was and why it was coming off her face.

Ember could only look on in abject horror. Feeling light-headed and devoid of all other emotions, the scene blurred one last time and she was flung back into the present.  
She submerged from the pensieve with her mouth still agape. Her bones felt numb as she backed herself into the chair she knew was waiting for her, and slumped into it.

Snape, still drinking sullenly at his desk, froze. He had almost forgotten she was even there with the way his thoughts had turned. She looked unseeingly at the edge of his desk, barely even blinking; her face ashen and distraught. Her lack of composure clearly suggesting she had seen something far more interesting than a mere dance lesson. “What did you see?”

It took her awhile, but he patiently waited for her to come back to herself. Her mind was reeling at all the new information, at all the confirmations, and the drudged up emotions all brought to the forefront. With everything spiraling, the only thing she could think to say was, “I once needed glasses…”

Snape, confused, urged, “Ember?”

She blinked and her green eyes focused on the potions master. “You were right. My father continuously obliviated me over the years.”

He leaned forward, gripping the edge of his desk with unbridled hope in his eyes. “What did you see with your parents? Did you see where they were all those years? Why they truly disappeared?”

Her face trembled between anger and sadness. Of course, he only cared about what information could be found in her mind, not the cruelty of the actions committed. “No,” She whispered, refusing to meet his eyes. “But sometimes I would go with them I think.”

Snape wanted to douse her back into the pensieve and refuse to give her respite until she found some tangible evidence of her parents betrayal, but paused at her tormented face. They would have other days, where she would be better rested. There was no need to traumatize the girl beyond repair when they were making progress. They had time. 

~

Draco had been sat at his desk with his feet up, teetering on the back two legs of the chair, one hand clasped just one half empty glass of scotch when Ember entered their room with a pensive face. Among other things, Lucius was getting peeved that his liquor stash was dwindling. And to save himself from being barred from the supply entirely, Draco began to cut back on his intake. 

She sat on their bed staring out the long window, occasionally rubbing her left ankle. Draco thought it was a subconscious action, little did he know it required more meaning to understand. It was rather obvious that she had to have seen something. She was so deep in her thoughts that she barely noticed his movement around the room. He let her be even though his curiosity was gnawing at his paranoia. She could have seen anything. She had been rather defensive the last time he had inquired about her returned memories and thought it best to let her breech the subject this time around.

They fell to the sheets with quiet whispers of goodnight. He held her rigid body close to his chest, resting his head on her shoulder. He was content to just breathe her in until he fell into a dreamless sleep, only to be woken up by Ember shaking his arm hours later.

He woke slowly to her rude ministrations and blinked at her sleepily, seeing very little due to the late hour. Once his mind registered the situation, he sat up rigidly and clasped her biceps in his hands. “What is it? What happened?” His voice was laced with sleep but the urgency overpowered the grogginess. His heart was beating painfully in his chest and he glanced down at his forearm, only slightly relieved to see that his mark wasn’t pitch black but it’s normal shade of heather grey.

She breathed deeply and licked her lips, eyes a commanding, desperate, green cutting down to his bones. “I need music. Do you have music here? I know you probably don’t have CDs, but you do have some type of music don’t you?” She blabbered.

He squinted at her in the moonlight tiredly, wondering what the fuck a CD was and why she was frantically asking for music this late at night. “Music? Em, what’s going on? Can’t this wait til morning?” 

She shook her head. “No, it can’t. Please, do you have music here?”

He sighed, taking in her pleading eyes. Clearly she hadn’t gotten any sleep, no doubt in reference to this music demand. “Alright, alright.” He conceded, “We’ll have to go down stairs.”

If he wasn’t so tired he would have chuckled at how hastily she got out of the bed and stood with faux patience by their door. He hazily got to his feet and scratched the back of his neck, shaking his head at the arbitrary situation.

Together they quietly tiptoed through the second level, down the stairs, and through the lower level, Draco’s wand and the moonlight as their only light source. He led them down to the one room Ember would be happy to never return to- the ballroom where she first encountered Lord Voldemort the year before.

Draco dropped her hand and strode to the small station to the right of the grand unlit fireplace. On top of a table sat a large contraption that held a seemingly suspended horn. If Ember thought hard enough she was sure that she had seen one before and that it played music, but she would never have been able to remember it’s specific name. She stayed in the middle of the room nervously clasping her hands in front of her chest and trying to wait patiently for Draco to fill the room with music.

He hunched over the rarely used gramophone to make sure all the mechanics were in place before flicking the fireplace to life and swishing his wand over the music player. Slowly a light piece of string quartet music began to fill the empty space.

He turned around to his wife with a questioning expression. She held his gaze for a brief moment and whispered her thanks almost as if she expected him to leave without some sort of further explanation.

She all but ignored him, as if he was just another garnish along the wall. Her hips began to sway slightly to the rhythm as if learning its tune, the skirt of her night gown twirling along with her movements. Then, her shoulders relaxed and gracefully she lifted her arms before balancing through different poses, one drifting into another with a lovely cadenced flow. Hesitantly, she pointed one of her feet out in front of her before delicately lifting onto the tip of her toes and turning in a single circle.

She dropped with a shuttering breath, eyes glancing down at the floor as if it had somehow moved of its own accord underneath her. Passing the test she had set for herself, she raised back to releve and began to glide beautifully around the room in a dance of her own creation.

Draco watched her mystified. He vaguely remembered her telling him that she had discovered that she had once been a dancer, but he had been far too preoccupied with the fact that she had actually reacquired a memory to put much thought into what she had actually told him. He had brushed it off as if it had been nothing but another hobby she couldn’t remember, but the way she twirled with precision, it was clear that this had been more than a mere hobby.

He watched her twirl about the room, creating exquisite lines that he had never envisioned to be possible. It was both marvelous and heartbreaking to watch her regain something thought to be lost forever. 

Suddenly she lifted higher onto pointe and lost the meticulous balance she had mastered, crumpling into a heap on the floor. Draco waited with bated breath. He expected her to get back up and finish the dance, but she didn’t. She remained on the floor and a moment later he could see the slight shake of her shoulders.

He crossed the room in an instant and sunk down in front of her. Silent tears streamed down her face as a doleful expression pulled down the corners of her lips. She stared through him as if the meanings and memories were flooding back to her.

“Are you alright?” He asked her softly, afraid to startle her out of whatever state she was in. 

Her eyes closed at the sound of his voice and she squeezed them shut tight before swallowing and nodding slowly.

She started to get up and when he realized she was struggling he grabbed her arms and helped her steady herself on her feet. She winced harshly when she rebalanced her weight but otherwise showed no true discomfort. All while the music continued to fill the hall, mocking them. “Turn it off,” She said detached. “Let’s go back to bed.”

He stared at her disconcerted for a long moment, but she pulled away from him and winced again as if the music was now truly disturbing her. He flicked his wand over the gramophone and turned in time to see that Ember was already half way out the hall.

~

He tried to ask her about the secret night dancing the next day but she stubbornly shut him down. It was very atypical of her and only caused his concern to grow at her strange behavior. Perhaps unearthing forgotten memories was causing her more harm than good. He had half a mind to forbid her from seeing Snape again, but he couldn’t be another person to restrict her choices like that. Months ago she never would have acted so stoic towards him, flustered and nervous sure, but not stoic. She remained quiet and reserved but uncharacteristically unobservant as the day followed. It was only during dinner that she was rattled out of her state and thrust into another.

Lucius and Narcissa were talking about wizarding politics. It was dense, mindless, jabber equated with conformed chatter. It held no real weight and was more so that the dinner table did not remain stagnant. Draco had heard the same discussions many times, always the same, and just as Lucius was beginning to rave about the lunacy that was Cornelius Fudge, he was cut off by a strained gasp.

Ember started breathing rapidly, her eyes wide as saucers as she gazed down at the mark on her forearm that was now pitch black and clearly irritating her skin.

Lucius’ brow furrowed and both he and Draco quickly checked their own forearms to see if they had been called as well, but both their arms remained neutral and their eyes met briefly before flitting back over to the quickly hyperventilating girl.

She had been the only one to be summoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Constructive criticism?


	29. Unraveling

“I tried carrying the weight of the world, but I only have two hands.”  
-Avicii, Wake Me Up

The Malfoy men seemed concerned with the rare, singular, call. Ember was not surprised, terrified sure, but not surprised. She took a deep breath and pushed her chair away from the table. She swallowed thickly, avoiding Draco’s eyes, and looked to Lucius. “How will I know where to go?”

She had never been called before, neither had Draco- not really. “Just apparate, The mark will take you to him.” He responded sullenly.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but she didn’t wait for it. She turned on the spot and dissaparated right from the dining room.

~

She arrived in a desolate room. It was devoid of anything; furniture, plants, light; nothing but peeling paint and rusted floorboards. Five Death Eaters were standing in different corners; Dolohov, Alecto Carrow, Macnair, and Bellatrix along with another Death Eater she had never truly been introduced to.

Voldemort, in all his glory, turned his torso at the defining crack that signified her entrance. His body was hunched over another. An older main laid at his feet, his body bent and broken in inhumane ways, splotches of blood streaking over his pale skin. His greying hair was blown around his wrinkled, battered, face. Bushy eyebrows, that perhaps once were used with conviction, were now completely unanimated. The man looked to her as well, with tragic eyes, not seeming to be pleased with her interruption of his torture.

Voldemort grinned. “Oh wonderful! Enigma you found your way to us, and earlier than I expected you to. Give me a moment and we’ll continue on.” He turned back towards his prey and sent another seizing jolt of pain through the man.

Ember tore her eyes from the horrible scene and instead looked to the other Death Eaters standing bored around the room. A few of them had scratches on their faces and she wondered what they had already been up to this evening. She crossed her arms under her chest, hoping that it presented a resolute front, and tried to ignore the man’s screams.

Bellatrix cackled, the only Death Eater to be seemingly thriving at the scene. “Oh come on Scrimgeour!” She jeered nastily. “You can fight better than that!”

“Bella!” Voldemort chastised but chuckled nonetheless at the man underneath his bare feet.

Ember gulped upon realizing that the Minister for Magic was being mutilated to death a few feet from her and hating herself that there was nothing she could do to save him.

Slowly Scrimgeour’s broken body ceased its twitching; his chest only contracting pain filled breaths. Voldemort paused in his inflictions and sighed, as if disappointed, before flicking his wand half-heartedly and sealing the Minister’s fate. Green flashed and the Minister’s chest stopped all movement, his eyes staring lifelessly up at the cracking ceiling.

Voldemort took a moment to gather himself, shedding the events off his shoulders, and once again turned around to face his compatriots, Ember unfortunately included amongst them. “Now, on to the main event, my friends!” He grinned, opening his arms welcomingly. Ember winced, thinking that if that was the opening act, what could possibly be instore for the rest of the night?

His crimson eyes found her again. “You remember your purpose Enigma?”

She met his stare with bravery she didn’t know she possessed and nodded her head silently. He smirked at her before vanishing like smoke. She gaped at the spot he left, unsure of what exactly was going on.

She glanced to see Dolohov, Macnair, and Rowle apparated behind their master. Bellatrix approached her quickly and looped her spiny arm around Ember’s and pulled her along in side-by-side apparation.

Ember detested the feeling of side-by-side apparation when she herself was not the one leading.

Disgruntled, they landed outside on a dirt path in front of a small darkened cottage. There were no street lights and no other houses as far as Ember could decipher. Just a lone house, that looked like it hadn’t been tended to in weeks. The grass was overgrown; the space abandoned.

Voldemort was standing confidently at the helm. “Now, let’s see what made Moody think he was so clever…”

He thrust his wand with great fervor, an electric blue spell emerging viciously and crashed into an invisible domed barrier over the cottage. He disconnected the spell with a huff of annoyance. The spell still sizzled off the barrier with a heat that Ember could feel caress her face. He tried again, this time with unnecessary sound effects in the forms of grunts, the rest of the Death Eaters lending their own wands into the fray.

Ember stood behind them, peering around to see if there were any unfortunate bystanders. She didn’t quite understand why they were attacking the house of an ex-auror. Draco had mentioned the year they had the posing Barty Crouch Junior as an impostered Moody for the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. He had told her ridiculous stories of how insane he had been and revealed that even though the real Allastor Moody hadn’t been their professor, he was notoriously just as paranoid and insane in his own right. 

Just then, whatever enchantment that had been placed over the home vanished in a sprinkling of dust. Dolohov grinned, turning to look at his master, “What Moody would think now that we crushed his protections and are about to infiltrate his home.”

“What I wouldn’t give to see the look on his face.” Alecto cackled.

“It’s too bad we killed him.” Macnair tisked.

Ember’s blood ran cold at the nonchalant explanation of yet another murder. She, and Draco, had been kept in the dark about what was happening outside of Malfoy Manor and she berated herself for not at least looking at the Daily Prophet once in a while. If the Minister for Magic was now dead, that meant that the Ministry was under Voldemort’s control and if they were hunting aurors…

She shivered, maybe it wasn’t strictly aurors but the Order of the Phoenix and any affiliations.

Voldemort ignored the banter. He stared at the cottage with careful eyes before stepping forward and making his way onto the overgrown lawn. “Enigma,” He called. “Stick close to me and shield me from the unknown.”

Unwilfully, Ember approached him so that she was just next to his right elbow, mildly wondering where Nagini was.

They moved inside swiftly, Ember tripping over the entry steps. The house was a mess. Bottles, books, furniture, and clothes were thrown carelessly about. Cracks lined the walls and she felt as if the whole house was a breaths away from caving in on them.

The Death Eaters hooted and taunted as they desecrated the place that was already in a trashed state. At first it looked like they might have been looking for something in particular, but Ember quickly realized that they were just doing it because they could. Later she would realize that it was to send a message, just like needlessly burning Hagrid’s hut on the edge of the Forbidden Forest had been. 

Voldemort stood in the middle of the chaos breathing in the destruction with an arrogant grin on his face. Occasionally he would slash out and destroy something of no value, but really he only wanted to witness his followers ruining whatever was left of the ex-auror. She stayed silent beside him pondering if she would be haunted for her involvement in this reprehensible activity for as long as she lived. She wondered if Moody’s spirit was in the room right now, watching what was left of his life so brutally extinguished; she wondered if he had the power to curse them all.

Movement caught her eye from the narrow hallway. A man peeked through the crack in the door of a hall cupboard. The door had opened just a smidge so that in all the chaos no one but Ember noticed it. She saw the whites of the mans frightened eyes before the tip of his wand managed to raise towards them. She shook her head ever so slightly, silently begging the person to not risk themselves. 

Her prayers, as they so often did, went unanswered. Rapidly the door was thrown open, cracking into Alecto’s face and sending her body to the floor with a loud curse. The wizard immediately shouted, “Immobulus!” Instantly everything and everyone froze, debris and Death Eaters, spinning weightlessly, suspended in the air. All except for Ember and Voldemort, who had quickly protected them from the onslaught.

The wizard gulped at Voldemort’s grin that had not vanished. He glanced at Ember briefly before continuing to hold his trembling wand towards the Dark Lord. Voldemort began to laugh low in his throat. “You actually thought that one wizard could manage to ambush me?”

Ember could see the man trembling. He was thin and ashen, yet he stood his ground to the best of his ability in a way that Ember was enormously envious of. She saw the determination in his eyes through the defeat as he shouted, in a surprisingly strong voice, “Stupefy!”

She hadn’t truly registered until she was in front of Voldemort and saw the impending spell blaze straight ahead of her, that Voldemort had manipulated her to physically shield him. Instinctually, not a moment too soon, she wrapped herself in her glow and felt the vibrations rattle against her core as the spell ricocheted off her patronus.

Voldemort cackled loudly in ravenous glee. The wizard’s eyes widened with astonishment before shifting to acceptance as Ember saw the green flash of the killing curse reflect from his glassy eyes.

The moment the man’s body hit the ground, his immobulus spell lifted and everything came crashing back down to the earth. Ember let the pulsating glow of her patronus fade back into her skin and panted at the horror and adrenaline rushing through her veins. 

Alecto groaned from the floor, sitting up and nursing her bleeding nose. “Bloody fucking hell.”

Dolohov glared at her from his rumbled state on the ground and Bellatrix only crooned from the corner she had fallen into. 

“Good work, Enigma.” Voldemort whispered in her ear causing violent shivers to run down her spine.

They left the cottage in a pitch of flames. Ember was allowed to return back to the manor, only to be called again the next night for the ravaging of another home.

~

There was nothing Draco could do. Each night her arm would burn and she would be gone for hours before returning home, not a physical scratch on her, before devolving into ragged sobs.

The first night she returned silently with ghostly pale skin. She slipped inside their room at midnight without a sound beside the clicking of the door behind her. 

Draco, who had been lying numbly on the floor, quickly stood up. “What happened?”

She met his eyes, green pools of grief, and shook her head before emotion overcame her. Her weakened knees held her up for a moment before collapsing out from underneath her. She sobbed into one hand and clutched at her chest with the other. 

Draco approached her fast, all too prepared to wrap her fragile state up in his arms and hold her, but when he touched her shoulder she flinched violently and pushed him away.  
He fell back a few steps at the strength of her push. She wouldn’t look at him as sob after sob escaped her. Furiously she pounded on the floor, as her soul ruptured at the seams. “Em…” He whispered helplessly.

He approached her again, only to feel the bite of electrocution at the touch of her skin. So, he did the next best thing; he sat down across from her as she let everything out.

It was the same every night. She would trudge in despondently, spend a good quarter hour crying before taking a shower and crawling into bed. During the nights he would not exist to her and knew that he deserved it. Days she would return to normal, or as normal as expectations demanded of her.

She roamed the manor like nothing more than an excavated phantom. Draco felt his only stable structure begin to fracture beneath him and knew that something needed to change. 

The more time they spent caged with the Death Eaters, with his family, the more torn down they were becoming. Through his never ending buzz, he could see the signs, could hear a part of him that had been locked away shouting at him, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the guilt. 

He had thought that he was ridden with guilt for not completing his task and tossing whatever futures the Malfoy’s had down the gutter, but it was when he looked at the shell of Ember that he felt guiltiest of all. She had been right; they should have left while they still could. 

~

They had clearly set this discussion up so that it would coincide with Ember being out of the house, Draco thought irritably.

He was sitting in the shadows of the landing, able to hear loud and clear the conversation drifting out of the parlor between his father, his aunt, Greyback, and Yaxley.  
“There is no need for her.” Bellatrix hissed out harshly.

“Now Lucius, don’t make that face.” Yaxley assuaged. “You have yet to be on one of the raids. She is rather useless and follows the Dark Lord around as nothing more than a shadow. Why is he so enamored by her is a mystery to me.”

“I doubt any of you would be saying any of this if she had saved one of you.” Lucius countered.

“That’s the point Lucius,” Draco heard his aunt huff out with irritation. “We haven’t needed her. We don’t make mistakes. She’s become a liability! We all know that she isn’t here out of loyalty, she’s too close to the Dark Lord. She knows too much.”

“She is loyal to Draco.” 

“Yeah, and your pathetic excuse of a son, whose he loyal to these days?” Yaxley opposed with obvious derision.

Draco heard Lucius let out a long winded sigh. “What do you wish to accomplish? The Dark Lord will not demote her while he still finds her valuable.”

“Exactly.” Greyback interjected. Draco felt his blood run cold.

“We devalue her.” Yaxley elaborated. “Have her have an unfortunate run in with Greyback. Once she is tampered with, the Dark Lord will have no further use for her and we’ll get her out of the main circle.”

“You do realize that her value is now tied to my son’s. I will not stand aside and let you tarnish her because of your own jealously.” Lucius was vicious, his words slicing through their argument with practiced ease. Draco felt an inch of relief, his father wouldn’t let them hurt her.

“We have enough leverage to keep Draco safe.” Bellatrix toned surprisingly calmly. “We are not discussing an assassination.”

“You might as well be!” Lucius exclaimed.

Draco wondered how any of them could forget that he was within hearing distance. They hadn’t even bothered to silence the room.

There was a deep pause before Lucius, much cooler, added. “You have Greyback turn her and you will not only invoke the wrath of the Dark Lord but you have no guarantee that it will diminish her magic, or if she would even live.”

Draco heard Greyback scoff. “I’ve gotten quite good at turning children, Malfoy. Don’t underestimate my life’s work.”

Lucius ignored the comment. “I will agree that I question Ember’s use to the cause, but we should not foolishly question the Dark Lord. This is far too risky to consider in these times.”

“We need the risk.” Yaxley added darkly. “Last time we all got too complacent. If enough of us have an issue with a mole we should be allowed to exterminate it.”

“We only need you to send her out alone.” Bellatrix added. “Greyback will do the rest.”

There was another heavy pause. “And what if he comes after you?” Lucius questioned.

“He needs the werewolves on his side. Conveniently I’m his only bridge to them.” Greyback snickered.

Draco had heard enough. Anger clawed at his insides in waves of infuriation. Lucius might as well have signed away Ember’s life. They planned to ruin the only good thing in his life and he would be damned if he sat back and let that happen. The only problem is that he couldn’t do anything about it. 

He couldn’t confront his father about it. He couldn’t take her hand and run. He couldn’t protect her without killing himself in the process. He could only warn her of a possible coup specifically against her.

He was halfway back to his bed when an epiphany stopped him right in his tracks. 

There was someone else who valued Ember as much as he did that had actual power over them. 

But he didn’t know if he could voluntarily go to Voldemort with this.

~

Every night they would infiltrate homes, destroying everything in sight. It took a few days before Ember understood that they were specifically targeting Order of the Phoenix members’ homes that had once been declared safe houses. She wasn’t sure if the message was intended for the Order or the Wizarding World or if Voldemort actually hoped to find the safe house that was sheltering all the members of the Order so that he could annihilate them in one blow. She obediently stayed at his side, ready to be lurched in front of him at the drop of a hat if they unfortunately crossed another.

Sometimes the safe houses would be isolated and sometimes it would be hidden in a populate muggle area. Ember always feared the latter. When muggles were around, the Death Eaters tended to act upon a frenzy and it was considered fun to maim and torture them. Most of them ended up stripped of their dignity and dead for the entertainment of the wicked.

Once, Macnair obliviated a man. He claimed that it was far more torturous for someone to forget their entire family than to be cursed to death. Rowle and Yaxley had cheered degradingly as they waited for the man’s wife to come home. They abused the woman who begged at the man who couldn’t remember her until she too succumbed to death. They left the man in the middle of a street with nothing. Ember agreed, death was far more merciful than obliviation.

Ember detested being amongst them. Though she never participated in their games of destruction, she would be labeled an accomplice all the same. She wasn’t under the imperious curse. Little strings held her to her fate the same as any wand held against her ever could. It shunned her even from herself, knowing that she was no better than any of the company she was forced to keep.

And in the way that one might turn off the lights at the end of a bad day, Ember switched off her emotions, faster and more successful than any alcohol could, until all that was left was embers of anger.

After a night where she fortunately hadn’t been called, she apparated to Hogwarts without giving it much thought; only an incessant need to remember something, anything, else urging her. When she got to the Headmaster’s office, Snape was nowhere to be found. 

The portraits of old headmasters mocked her, and she wondered how Snape could stand to see the eyes of the man he murdered every day. She had stared at the pensieve for a while, hoping that he would burst through the door, but he never did. Without him to extract the memories, she had no way to view them. 

After an hour, she descended down the castle preparing to scour the dungeons for the man. But he wasn’t in his old stomping grounds either and after a narrowed escape from Professor McGonagall, she bitterly returned to the manor.

~

When she entered through the front door, it was with a gust of tangible irritation. She flew past the sitting room to the shock of Draco. He hadn’t even known that she had left the manor.

When he nudged their door open he became even more apprehensive when he found Ember on her knees rummaging under their bed. “Em?” He asked, confused.

She huffed, dropping the bed skirt, and glared up at him. “Where is the scotch you’ve been hiding here?”

He recoiled at her tone. Her eyes bled frustration on the border of barely held in hysteria. Though hesitant, he surely couldn’t refuse her the request to borrow his vice, as long as she returned it unscathed.

He licked his bottom lip before striding over to his cluttering desk. Reaching into one of the back crevices, he touched a switch that caused the front to unfold in a secret hideaway revealing his favorite brand of scotch.

She looked mildly unimpressed but made no comment. He grimaced, unsure why he thought that might make her laugh, and grabbed the newly adorned whiskey glasses perched on the top shelf of his desk. He brought them over to her form and sat down beside her with a good-natured groan. Unstopping the decanter, he poured the bronze liquid generously between the glasses. “My father’s getting peeved that I keep emptying his good liquor. Said that if I was going to drink every day, that I had to keep to the cheap rubbish.” He shrugged, placing the decanter beside him. “I stole this night before last.”

He handed her a glass and picked up his own. He was prepared to toast to something mundane, like Amycus’s recent correct pronunciation of eradication, but she ignored the gesture and swallowed the whole glass in three greedy gulps. 

She winced and nearly coughed up a lung but held her glass out for a refill. He sucked at his teeth, brows raised high, but didn’t want to find out what she might do if he refused her, and filled her glass once more. This one she sipped at, sighing heavily.

“Want to let me in on what has begged you to turn to my favorite pastime?” He asked, crossing one ankle over the other and taking a swig of his own glass. It was a bad joke, one he wasn’t proud of, and he was disappointed once again when it didn’t bring out an humor in her.

“It’s just…a lot.”

She was hollow and rusted, like the gears of the Hogwarts clock tower. If they had not been enchanted they would have been retired long ago. She looked like he felt, and he wondered what was to become of them. “What does he have you do Em?” He asked seriously.

Her eyes remained fixed unseeingly on the legs of the desk chair, full of horrible memories that she ironically wished would be taken from her. “He uses me as a shield. As a precaution. But it’s not what he makes me do, it’s what he makes me witness. He keeps raiding Order safe houses, wrecking them. And God forbid we cross anyone. They kill so casually, torture so cruelly and I can’t do anything but watch.”

He mulled over her words. He had no idea what her nightly visits had consisted of. He and his father had been casted so far down the ladder that they might as well have been nothing but forgotten bile. Their house was used as a hub, but for all intents and purposes it was a sentence that put them on house arrest while allowing Death Eaters to parade in and out to mock their failures. 

He thought of telling her about the overheard conversation but desperately did not want to add anything else to weigh her down. Once he told the Dark Lord, he’d tell her.

“There’s nothing you can do.” He told her honestly, solemnly. If either of them did anything to antagonize the situation they were dead. They were already living on borrowed time, it would only take one comment, one slip up, and she was dead.

“I wish that was true. But Draco,” She turned to look at him with guilt ridden eyes. “I’m a healer. I could save most of them after the fact if only I wasn’t tied to Voldemort’s side.”

She was crestfallen, taking leisurely sips from her glass, and Draco felt his own chest tighten at her confession. Here he was drowning in past mistakes, dwelling on something that he could do nothing to change, when she was right in the fray of it. He numbly realized that just a year ago he would have been envious of her position but now he only felt sympathetic. 

She placed her glass down on the floor and leaned her head on his shoulder and whispered, “I’m just so tired of it.”

He rested his lips on her forehead, breathing in sweet lavender. “I know sweetheart.”

Me too, he thought silently.


	30. The Tipping Point

“Oh, the storm is raging against us now. If you’re afraid of falling, then don’t look down.”  
-Imagine Dragons, Walking the Wire

She fantasized of running away so much these days that it seemed her fantasies were the only thing keeping her head above water. The harsh brand on her forearm was a constant reminder of what Lucius had once told her. The mark was a two way link; a way to always locate his followers and let them locate him in return. There could be no running when you had been marked and leashed. Which begged the question constantly circling in her mind; how had her parents done it? And that path of thinking always brought her to questioning why she couldn’t find Voldemort when she tried to see if she could apparate to him. He had touched her before, briefly, but every time she tried to look for him, to gain some leverage, she came up empty.

But with that failure, she found another liberating revelation. She had thought about it before in passing when it had first been burned into her skin, but since then it hadn’t crossed her mind. She glanced down at her arm, at the brutally scared skin, and flexed her arm. Her patronus came to her in slow waves and she sighed in the knowledge that she had been right.

That night there was going to be a meeting in the dining room of Malfoy Manor. Everyone was to be in attendance. Draco had been silently floundering all afternoon. Ember knew he was right to be worried. This would be the first time that he would see Voldemort since his failure at the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. There was little she could do to comfort him, no words would ebb the inevitable. And logically she knew that Voldemort would not convene the first general meeting in months purely to humiliate and punish Draco. Oh that definitely might be part of it, but if that had been his goal he would have done it back in June. 

Still it was concerning that Voldemort hadn’t convened a true meeting all summer. Instead he had been favoring intimate meetings with fewer, trusted, followers. This was uncharacteristic. Voldemort always thrived at the superior attention of others. He liked to flaunt his prowess and he never did anything that wasn’t meticulously planned. Then again, it wasn’t news that Voldemort had trust issues. Perhaps he had been waiting to hold a true meeting until he got closer to annihilating the threat that was Harry Potter. 

Ember was anxious for what the night might bring. There were always too many variables when it came to Voldemort. She just wanted the days where she had to hold her tongue and live in unwavering fear to be over, but there was no end in sight. A second wizarding war was already upon them, and Voldemort was only growing stronger. If the outcome of this war was to be different than the first, Ember would be stuck in this nightmare forevermore, however short that might be.

~

Draco sat down in his father’s study with a twitchy disposition. Lucius had bid him come for a chat before the nights events unfolded.

Lucius himself was riddled with anxiety over the basically impromptu meeting. He had once been at the direct side of Voldemort. He had been trusted with delicate information, been given all the respect he could have ever wanted, and yet just as he feared; Draco’s failures only emphasized his own. The Malfoys had been worse than simply cast further down the Death Eater hierarchy; they were being ignored. And though Voldemort may ignore them for a time, he knew that the snake would not forget and that karma was encroaching on them. Tonight need only be its’ catalyst.

“Draco stop staring at the liquor cabinet. You’re effectively cut off tonight. You cannot go in there without a clear head.”

“I-I wasn’t” Draco responded, mildly baffled. He hadn’t even noticed that his eyes had trained on the cabinet. He had been lost to thoughts of deep seated betrayal by his own father. The man who held the name Malfoy above all, would help conspire to turn one of his own into a werewolf. Had he simply forgotten that little bit of information? That it was by his own doing that Ember was a part of their family.

Lucius looked unamused. “Your eyes have been trained on that cabinet for the last five minutes.”

Draco decided to play along. He couldn’t show that he knew anything was more amiss. “Something just to settle the nerves?” He teased. All he felt was adrenaline coursing through his veins in taunting waves. The day he had feared was at his shores and layers of anxiety lay one over the other until they blurred into panic.

“Your wife has been on raid after raid with him and you don’t see her burying her nose in whiskey.” Lucius hissed. “You show weakness tonight and it might cost us everything. I don’t need to remind you that everything has consistently been growing smaller.”

“How did you know she’s been on the raids?” Draco asked skeptically. For some reason he hoped that his father would tip his hand and bring him into the fold. That somehow Lucius would defect from the general consensus and let Draco in on the conspiracy; that they would work together to get Ember out from underneath the claws of the wolves. 

He should have known. Lucius Malfoy was as selfish as they come and he would never change.

“She told me.”

That took him by surprise. Since when had Ember ever spoken to his father alone?

Lucius smirked. “Don’t look so surprised. She realized that you weren’t in any position to help her so she came to me. She’s a smart girl. Blaine would have been proud if he hadn’t been so blind.”

“He didn’t deserve to be proud.” Draco managed to ground out.

Lucius quirked a brow.

“He stole her from herself. The only reason they had a child was because of you. Everything good or smart about her doesn’t have a damn thing to do with her parents.” Draco elaborated. He wanted to add that Lucius would know exactly what it was to be as blind as Blaine if he had anything to say about it.

Lucius nodded, not in an understanding way, but in an impressed manner. Give the boy a few sober hours and he revealed his impetuous bite, even while sat there trembling with nerves. Give him a day and only Merlin knows what he could accomplish, he thought.

Lucius leaned forward. “Tonight, act as if you are ashamed but not so much that it would draw attention to it. Do not make eye contact and whatever you do, do not speak. He wants to see you cracking. Do not give it to him. This will be a test to him, just like everything else. If my assumptions are correct, this meeting won’t have anything to do with us on the face of it, so don’t make it.”

Draco wanted to object to several pieces of that statement but it would do nothing but send them into another conversational circle and the end point was a hard truth so he reluctantly nodded his head.

“Ember will be treated better than us. Let him treat her how he likes. She’s strong and she’s learned to keep up with him so far. He’s going to parade her in front of you as bait. Don’t take it.” He implored, his blue eyes dangerous.

Draco clenched his jaw, wondering how he was ever going to get the chance to speak with Voldemort alone, but nodded. He was to be nothing but obedient tonight and hope that things worked in his favor. He held valuable information close to his chest and he only needed to deliver it to save Ember. 

His hand twitched for a glass as he mulled over all the ways tonight could go. His head felt clear for the first time in months. He had a purpose right at the eve of his punishment, and it wasn’t for him. It was for the angel that chose to bring herself down with him.

He was surprisingly startled out of his mind by a knock on the wide open door. He flinched slightly, immediately standing up and turning around to face the intruder only to see Ember hesitating in the door way. She gave him a once over before turning her attention to his father.

“Narcissa’s asking for you in the dining room.”

Lucius pursed his lips.

“I think she’s planning on redecorating…again. Not that it will matter either way.”

The man fallen from grace sighed irritably, before standing up from his chair and gliding out of the room.

Then they were left alone. She was dressed in ceremonial black, the Malfoy pearls she had been given last Christmas wrapped delicately around her wrist. He wanted to tell her what he planned to do, but couldn’t find the words. He felt his heart race as her eyes pierced him with a mixture of remorse and sympathy. “How are you doing?”

He chuckled humorlessly. “About as good as I look, I suspect.”

He was surprised to see her smile at him ever so slightly, the warmth not reaching her eyes. She walked over to him and tugged on the lapels of his sports coat. “Then I would say you’re doing pretty well.”

Her bright eyes were just a bit playful and he felt an ounce of stress leave his shoulders. He had forgotten that outwardly speaking he looked the best he had all summer. He looked back to normal save for the fact that his hair was a wavy mess and hanging in his eyes. He had always favored slicking his hair back, but Ember had told him that he looked more like him when he left it natural and he wanted to feel like him.

“I’m scared, and I’m ashamed that I am.” He admitted quietly.

She brushed invisible dust off his shoulders. “It’s normal to be scared. Don’t forget, they are all terrified of him too. We are just the youngest; they expect us to tremble in fear.”  
He shook his head disbelievingly. “How have you been doing this for weeks?”

She frowned. “It’s not without difficulty.” She bit her lip before nodding to herself. “I know what he expects of me and so far I’ve delivered. He mostly ignores me if I do as told. Which I need not remind you, I’ve been doing all my life. These are just severer consequences.”

“Severer than obliviation is…severe.” He murmured, brushing her hair back over her shoulder.

She gulped, but did not let her own fear show. “It is.” She agreed before bringing her hands up to his neck and tracing the edge of his jaw with her thumb. “You can do this Draco. We’ll get through this.”

“Alone together aye?” He tried to smirk but it turned too much like a smile.

She nodded solemnly and lifted up on her toes to kiss him.

He was pleasantly startled. Their physical affections had been virtually nonexistent in recent months, his own fault of course, and this was the first time that she had ever initiated a kiss. It was marvelous. She set the tone, delicately gliding her lips over his own. It was short, but meaningful all the same.

When she pulled back, he chased after her lips but paused when she flicked his hair out of his eyes. “We should go downstairs. They were already starting to arrive when I came up here.”

He sighed and stole one more kiss should it happen to be his last.

~

Charity Burbage was lying motionless suspended over the dining table when the couple walked through the entrance. The twenty or so Death Eaters were just beginning to find their spots at the long table Ember hadn’t seen since her wedding. Voldemort was already seated at the head of the table and his head perked up when he saw her.

“Ah Enigma, there you are. Please come stand by me.” His voice was sickly sweet, but there was no room for argument.

Ember squeezed Draco’s hand tightly, trying to give whatever strength she might have to him, and walked towards the Dark Lord without a word. She turned on her heel and stood at his right elbow, just as it had become customary for her, and shifted into nothing more than an obedient hound.

She thought it peculiar that Voldemort wanted to display her so trustingly beside him, unless it was because he was worried about an attack from one of his followers. It was feasible that had happened in the past and this was just a precaution, but maybe it was just another psychological move.

The rest of the Death Eaters settled, all but one; Severus.

Voldemort frowned slightly but did not let it warp his face for long. He smiled falsely and declared that they would wait for their friend. Hopefully he would arrive soon, for a cringe worthy silence filled the room.

Not letting herself drift her eyes to the floating muggle studies professor, Ember looked to Draco instead. He was sat next to his father, eyes fixated on the table in front of him. He looked smaller from where she stood, less like marble and more like glass. From this angle even Lucius looked smaller.

Some of the lesser known followers, the ones that she had not seen since her wedding, were eyeing her from their respective spots; their eyes accusing and silent sneers molding their faces in perpetual disdain. She did her best to ignore them, even though she wanted to curl into a ball right there on the ground.

Not but a minute later, quick footsteps could be heard coming from the foyer and a moment later, Severus entered the room. His face was impassive and he barely even paused on his way to the only waiting seat. Ember couldn’t mistake the fact that since her wedding, Snape had moved up several seats and was now seated right at Voldemort’s left side.

“Severus,” Voldemort greeted. “We’ve waited patiently for your arrival.”

Snape sat pertly in his seat. He gave Ember only the briefest of glances before fixing his coal eyes on the Dark Lord. “I bring news.” He announced evenly. “Harry Potter is expected to be staying at 12 Grimmauld Place, his late godfathers house. It was the main house of the Order two years ago. He was spotted on Tottenham Court Road after the wedding reception.”

Voldemort’s lips unfurled into a grin but was interrupted by Yaxley. “We’ve been burning down houses of every known member of the blasted Order and only now you reveal the main hub?”

Severus eyed Yaxley with cool and collected eyes, but it was Voldemort who responded. “Now Corban, Severus has been off on an important mission and was unaware of our endeavors. If his whispers are true then we’ll have the boy by tomorrow evening.” He turned back towards Severus. “You’ve been there before. Security?”

“Tripled since I was last there. Moody came up with two new enchantments before he was…disposed of. It could also potentially hold members of the Order inside.”

“Ah, well it’s lucky that I have Enigma then, hmm?” Voldemort mused eyeing Ember appreciatively from the corner of his eye. She gulped as the red eyes that had just begun to move off her figure returned with new vigor. She saw Draco tense from the corner of her eye.

Severus took the chance to meet her eyes briefly. After spending so many hours with him, he looked at her as if he had never exchanged so much as a word with her. It was a terrifyingly fascinating ability to act indifferent amongst a year’s worth of in-depth conversations. Even if it was a hoax, Ember couldn’t help but feel wronged.

“Still, I face an unfortunate complication that my wand and Potter’s share the same core. They are in some ways twins. We can only wound but not fatally harm one another.”

Voldemort stood up from his seat and placed his wand on the table, before walking down its’ length behind the chairs filled with his ever loyal supporters. “If I am to kill him, it must be with another’s wand.”

Ember watched as he passed behind the Malfoy’s, silently proud of the fact that Draco had remained stoic and none of the fears that she knew lived right beneath the surface had materialized on his face.

“Surely one of you would like the honor?” He called, pausing in between Lucius and Draco. “What about you Lucius?”

“What?” Lucius squeaked. He had not prepared enough for this meeting to hand over his prized custom made wand, even if it were in the efforts of killing Potter. A wizard without a wand is no wizard at all.

“Your. Wand.” Voldemort emphasized, holding his hand out expectantly.

Lucius floundered for a moment before unsheathing his wand and hesitantly placing it in his master’s hand. “Do I detect elm?” Voldemort asked conversationally.

“Yes, My Lord.” Lucius cowered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The Dark Lord deftly trailed his long fingers over the wand before grasping the snake embossed handle and snapping it off the wand. Lucius flinched and let out a disbelievingly offended gasp that went ignored.

“And what is the core?”

“Dragon heart string.”

“Hmmm,” Voldemort mused, tossing the broken handle on the table with a clatter causing all the Malfoy’s to flinch. “You do not seem pleased by my arrival, Lucius.”

“Your presence is the greatest possible pleasure, My Lord.” Bellatrix complimented, worming her way into the conversation. It was only then that Ember noticed she had been placed next to her sister, drastically further down the table and wondered what she had done to be demoted so obviously.

Voldemort rolled his eyes at her flattery. “It is just too bad that we weren’t invited to your nieces wedding isn’t it? A half-blood marrying a werewolf.”

The rest of the occupants began to laugh at the Malfoy’s expense, who all cowered further into their seats, even Bellatrix. Ember frowned at the jeers from the Death Eaters.  
Each laugh only solidified the fact that if Ember had not revealed powers that night so many months ago that she too would have been tossed aside to be nothing more than a joke passed around at a Death Eater meeting.

Voldemort did nothing to quiet the mocking laughter but glanced back at Lucius’ wand before pointing it at Professor Burbage and flicking it to the left.

Her body, still suspended above them, floated down the table, effectively silencing the laughter. “For those you that do not know, we have a guest this evening. This is Charity Burbage who, until recently, taught muggle studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is her belief that muggles are not so different from us. She would even have us mate with them.”

Disgusted jeers, led by Bellatrix, erupted from the audience.

Voldemort made his way back up the table towards Ember. He looked at her in the eye curiously before tilting his head. “Now Enigma, you were raised as a muggle for a time. Do you believe that they should be allowed to mate with us?”

A conditioned response with monotoned delivery was the only answer he wanted. “No.” She didn’t remove her eyes from the alarming red baring down into her shriveling soul. “My Lord, that would be an abomination.”

Voldemort smirked with pride and turned boastfully to face his devotees from the head of the table.

The ridicule finally quieted in time for Professor Burbage to make eye contact with Snape. “Severus,” She pleaded with strained emotion. “Severus, please.”

Snape kept his face void of anything as he stared straight back into the tortured eyes of his once colleague. Voldemort eyed the exchange dubiously before quickly flicking Lucius’s wand. “Avada Kedavra!” 

The green light flashed and Charity Burbage’s body fell limp to the table, a single tear still trailing from her eye. 

Ember’s chest tightened painfully and it was the first time she had to avidly blink her eyes to remain from crying in front of the dark master. She had now witnessed countless torturing and murders over the past weeks, but this was different. She had interacted with Professor Burbage briefly in the past and knew first-hand that the woman had been nothing but kind and didn’t deserve to be executed in the wake of mocking laughter. 

She could feel whatever will she kept slip as her bones numbed. When everything was said and done, what would she deserve cast down amongst the likes of this filth? 

“Now,” Voldemort announced, cutting through the suddenly rowdy crowd. “Tomorrow night Bellatrix, Severus, Yaxley, Macnair, Rowle, Dolohov, and Enigma will join me at 12 Grimmauld Place and come sun up we shall feast to the death of the Boy Who Lived.”

Before the applause, that Voldemort so intrinsically wanted, Yaxley spoke up. “Why not let us bring him to you My Lord? It is too dangerous for you.”

The room fell deathly silent at the brazen offence. Voldemort kept all composure except the miniscule narrowing of his slit eyes. “You think I’m not capable of protecting myself.” It was not a question. It was not rhetorical. It was a statement that chilled the room drastically.

“No My Lord!” Yaxley rushed, his eyes swimming with fear. “I only meant that we do not wish harm to come to you. Why not let us capture the boy and bring him to you.”

“I ask you to look to my immediate right.” Voldemort stated smoothly.

All eyes returned to Ember and she shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. 

“How can she even protect you?” A man far off on the last seat demanded.

Ember thought it was a valid concern. Most of them knew next to nothing about her, only that she had saved her own skin by glowing on the floor a year ago. Had she looked to Draco she would have seen the panic underlined by desperation in his eyes. She would have seen the small shift in his posture, the clenching of his fist as his eyes darted around the table. She saw none of these things and remained as much of a statue as she could; eyes unseeing, hearing impaired, face frozen with apathy.

Grumbles of agreement murmured through the hall and Voldemort was not so impressed by his accusation. “Wormtail, let us show them.”

Faster than Ember’s mind could process, Wormtail shot a cruciatus curse at the Dark Lord. And before Ember, or anyone else, could register it, she was launched in front of him. The whiplash and her slightly weakened guard allowed for the curse to hit her. The familiar stinging pain lit her limbs on fire with almost sweet licks before her mind instinctually pushed through the agony and ignited her patronus.

White surrounded Ember vivaciously. She sighed as the pain faded into nothing more than a recent memory. When the intense glowing faded back into her skin, Voldemort returned her back to her place at his side and cocked an arrogant brow at the assuming man.

Those that had not been on the trail of house infiltrations stared in respective awe of the girl and Ember lowered her gaze to the table feeling shame wash over her in almost claustrophobic waves. She didn’t want to be the one to protect Voldemort, she just wanted to be left alone.

There wasn’t a single pair of eyes that was not staring at the enigmatic girl, cast just so in the Dark Lords shadow, except for Voldemort himself. He was much more interested in Draco, whose nostrils were flaring. Voldemort grinned sadistically. “Ah Draco, now we haven’t forgotten about you…”

Ember’s eyes darted to the Dark Lord. She had assumed so heartedly that Draco might be left alone. What they had all deemed as failure had taken place months ago and Dumbledore was dead. Dead was dead, what matter did it make who landed the final blow?

Voldemort licked his lips, his eyes dancing rubies. “Your idea on how to infiltrate the impregnable fortress of Hogwarts was truly inspired.” He paused, his face hardening. “But you couldn’t quite take the castle now could you? They found you with Dumbledore at your mercy and you didn’t have the strength to end him. I always thought you to be cowardly, but that was such a display of cowardice that it didn’t even seem worthy of punishment. Not punishing you immediately was punishment enough, wasn’t it?”

Draco’s eyes were hard as they stared at the Dark Lord. He schooled his features as best he could, he felt his knees jitter underneath the table, but he wouldn’t let Voldemort gain another ounce of his would be cowardice. He would stare into his eyes all night if it meant that he kept a shred of his dignity.

“Tell me, what is it that Dumbledore said to keep you so subdued. You’d been working tirelessly all year on your task. How did he manage to sway your conviction?” His head tilted slightly. “The old man did have his own way of manipulation.”

Draco gritted his teeth, much preferring that this conversation was just between the two of them. He didn’t like his failures being paraded around those that had doubted him from the beginning, but that was Voldemort’s style. He was nothing but a grade A bully, feeding off the humiliation of others. “He was trying to convince me that I couldn’t do it.”

“Well, he was right about that.” Voldemort said dryly as the Death Eaters cackled. “Still, I have little use for you now. What a strange turn of events.” He mused, as if the thought had just come to him. “You are no longer worthy of Enigma. How ironic. But you’ll play along won’t you? Let me do whatever I wish with your wife.”

The heckles grew severe at the lewd elaboration; the subtle implications causing Ember’s stomach to twist uncomfortably. Whether that was in the cards or not would not be seen because the suggestion alone did what Voldemort had been hoping it would. 

Draco stood up rashly, sending his chair colliding into the wall. His face was hot and pinched with resentment, jaw clenched; the veins of his neck protruding angrily. His chest heaved as his heart rate increased. 

Everyone has a line. An invisible structure that is balanced in the depths of morality. Most never know what the particular line means to them, until it is toyed with. It turns out that line for Draco Malfoy was not mockery of his own self but the blatant disrespect shown to the person closest to him. 

It’s too bad that he hadn’t discovered this before all the mind games and false choices. It would have saved him a lot of pain.

Voldemort leaped into action and shot a curse at the boy sending him flying back until his spine cracked against the wall. Loud cries of encouragement escalated the situation, almost drowning out the barely contained screams of Draco- almost. 

He had never felt the rushing of extreme pain before. Had never felt his veins filled with uncontrollable fire; like his wounded insides were exposed and stretched open before alcohol seeped into every crevice, burning everything except the pain. He had no idea this was the type of pain Ember had become accustomed to. Had no idea that this was the base level of Death Eater torture.

Narcissa gasped, entirely prepared to throw her own well-being away and lift off her seat and run to her son, but Lucius held her thrashing body back. Ember was not so lucky.

“Stop it!” She shouted at the Dark Lord, her voice strong and piercing.

Voldemort quickly turned to her, his eyes flaring, giving Draco a moment of respite in which he moaned and took several deep breaths.

His red cautioning stare caused Ember to wish that she could back track. He had never looked at her so warningly, had never outwardly expressed how much the ice beneath her was thinning. He didn’t grace her with a further response. He merely turned back to Draco and resumed his abuse.

She winced at Draco’s manic screams, each escalating more than the last, her hands twitching at her side. She could not stand aside and let Voldemort hurt him. She knew logically that he wouldn’t kill him; to kill him would be to kill her and for whatever reason he was still infatuated with her. That didn’t matter. She had the power to stop this superfluous exhibition of authority.

Her thoughts felt trapping, screams echoing, and panic ebbed its way up her throat, but she controlled herself as much as she was able, focusing only on the shielding energy flowing through her. Through the taunts, screams, and laughter, Ember focused on the convulsing Draco. It took a long moment to the point where her vision blurred and her ears rang, but Draco’s writhing ceased as a dim covering of blue fell over his body like a blanket, protecting him from the torment of Lord Voldemort.

The room fell silent. Not a sound, besides Draco’s panting, could be heard. They had only seen that hue of glow from one source before and all eyes whirled to her. She dropped her focus underneath the tense stares, but it didn’t matter, for Voldemort’s attention was entirely on her now. His eyes filled with madness, she could practically hear the gears twisting in his mind.

She gulped, unsure of where to settle her eyes. “I-I told you to stop it.”

Voldemort’s eyes narrowed before he dramatically twisted to Snape.

Severus held up his hands in surrender; his eyes wide and his head shaking. “I swear I didn’t know she was capable of that.”

Voldemort stared him down for an everlasting moment before he granted a stiff nod, seemingly having calmed down if but an ounce. He turned back towards Ember. His eyes were devoid of that odd happiness they usually held with in regard to her and she took a step back under the weight of them. 

He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill me.

Instead, he tilted his head. “You are full of surprises, my dear.” His tone was flat and left nothing to determine where his mood had stabilized.

His attention drifted back to Draco, his eyes staying on her until the last possible moment. He leaned forward, staring down his invisible nose to the boy he’d never given a choice. Draco’s eyes were frantic, revealing the alarm that Ember still felt. Voldemort slowly opened his mouth as if choosing his words carefully. “You are lucky that Enigma is such an invaluable witch.”

The master of evil stretched back to his full height, and brushed his eyes of the stilled crowd of his followers. “Tomorrow night.” He reminded ominously before vanishing in winged smoke.

The moment he was gone, before anyone else had a chance to breathe- much less move, Ember strode over to Draco and dropped to her knees beside him. She brushed her long hair behind her ears and immediately placed her hands on his chest. Her fingers splayed out, covering as much of his body as she could, and glowed to life much faster than she had ever managed to conjure.

Most of the Death Eaters only watched for a moment before becoming bored of the whole endeavor and exiting the room. Some like Wormtail, Dolohov, and Yaxley disapparated from the room, others, like Lucius, Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Snape looked on as Ember began to heal Draco.

The boy blinked up at her, feeling the pain lessen the more concentrated her face grew. And when he felt miles better and her eyes began to droop at the sides, he placed his hand on top of hers. “I’m fine.” He whispered tiredly.

She looked at him disbelieving for a moment before he gave her a stubborn glare and she reduced her patronus and slumped against his hip.

“Do you have any idea how idiotic that was?!” Snape spat down at her.

“I know.” She murmured, not looking anywhere besides Draco’s face; only now beginning to fully process what she had done.

This was entirely different from the first time her powers had interrupted a Death Eater gathering. The first time she had let Voldemort have his fun, only to shock them all, and herself, by revealing dormant abilities. This however was far more precarious. She had yelled at the Dark Lord and when he had refused her, she had took the matter into her own hands. Snape was right, it was stupid. Suicidal stupid, but when she looked down to the still breathing Draco, who had closed his eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to care all that much.

Narcissa, after the shock had worn off, fell down next to the couple and gathered Ember into a bone crushing hug. She repeated her gratitude over and over again until the words ceased to have any true meaning. Ember, shocked, wrapped her hands awkwardly around Narcissa’s wrists, silently acknowledging her.

“How did you do that girlie?” Bellatrix asked the question of the hour. Gone was her normal high pitched voice and instead an apprehensive tone had taken over.

Ember looked up at the haunting figure of the woman over her nearly sobbing sister’s shoulder and shrugged glancing sideways at a still upset Snape. “I just knew that I could.”

Snape narrowed his eyes, thinking that she might just be clever enough to pull the wool over all of their eyes, including his.


	31. The Choices We Make

“The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken. Remember the pact of our youth. Where you go, I’m going. So jump, and I’m jumping. Since there is no me without you.”  
-Gangs of Youth, Achilles Come Down

As soon as the dust had settled; meaning Narcissa had let go of Draco, Lucius had stopped berating the air (as no one was listening to him), and Bellatrix had finally left the room, Ember grabbed Draco’s arm and hauled him up the stairs and into their room.

He was a little shocked at her urgency but let her maneuver him at her will, having none left of his own. When she shut the door behind them she held her hand out expectantly, her face hard. “Wand,” She demanded, leaving no room for argument.

Exhausted, hurt, and only mildly curious, he passed her his wand easily. “Why do you want my-”

“MUFFLIATO!” Ember commanded pointing the wand towards the walls. A resounding muffled blimp bounced off the walls and ensured that their conversation would not be heard.

Whatever respite Draco had been given was suddenly ripped from beneath his feet and he felt the tension in his muscles return. Apprehensively, with blue eyes that burned, Draco asked slowly, “Em, what is going on?”

She turned back to him with compassionate eyes, grabbing back on to his lapels and giving him a once over. “Are you okay?” She asked in response, backing him up into their bed until his knees were knocked from underneath him. She stood in the open space between his legs with his face in her hands. Her eyes an angry shade of green, having been agitated between too many emotions, settled only on concern as she caressed his jaw and nibbled on her bottom lip.

“I’m fine.” He assured, taken aback by her heavy gaze. “Sore beyond belief but thanks to you, I’m fine.”

She chuckled humorlessly, “Thanks to me.” She murmured, a guilty expression taking over her features.

He grabbed her waist with one hand and her wrist with the other. Her expression frightened him, for it was nearly identical to the look in her eyes at the entrance hall of Hogwarts where he silently begged her to return to this nightmare. “What is it?” He whispered, blindly hoping that he would be able to take it, whatever it was.

She shook her head and he was startled to find her eyes glassy and unsure. “I don’t want you to hate me.” She whispered so softly that his ears had to strain to hear it.

He squeezed her wrist that was still cupping his cheek. “Sweetheart, I could never hate you.”

Her eyes flitted over his face as if memorizing the slopes and lines of him. “I’m leaving. Tonight.” She said with great conviction.

The air was stolen from his lungs, as if a hand had reached down his throat, grabbed his heart in a vice like grip, and squeezed. His world, that was already spinning out of control from the telling moments of the night, began to blur in dizzying flashes until nothing made sense.

Her head shook as she looked beseechingly into his eyes. “I can’t do this; be here with them, with him, anymore Drake. I can’t. I won’t be a piece to be manipulated any more than I already have been.”

“We’ve been over this Em,” He spoke carefully, fully understanding the weight of this choice and knowing that he was about to fall head first into the unconceivable unknown.   
“We can’t just leave. He’d hunt us down. We wouldn’t make it two days out there.”

Her hand dropped from his face, but he held it tight to his chest before she could pull away any further. “No.” She argued, stubbornly. “We could do it.”

Frustration mounting, he shook his head. “Ember we can’t leave. I know this is rubbish, but we have nothing outside of here.”

“Why can’t you see,” She pleaded with him. “That we have nothing here.” A chocked sound escaped her lips and she took a deep breath to recompose herself. “I…I want you to come with me, but if you wanted to stay I…well I would understand.”

Draco shook his head vehemently. Being separated from her wasn’t a possibility. He wouldn’t survive here without her for too many reasons to count, tonight being proof enough. He’d rather die than be without her light, but that wasn’t an exaggeration; leaving with her meant almost certain death. 

He thought about what he would be leaving, what he would be giving up. It struck him that his hesitance had nothing to do with Voldemort, besides the hovering fact that he would kill them when he found them. Voldemort was going to run the world down into nothing but a pit of despair. The world would become nothing but a massive Malfoy Manor. No, it wasn’t Voldemort or the hierarchy or the supposed superior bloodlines that held him back; it was his family. “I don’t,” He sighed, his eyes pleading with her. “Em, it’s my family. Their beliefs might be clouded and biased and wrong, but they are my family.”

She broke his weakened grip of her and took a step back, her face crestfallen. “You could do so much better.” She whispered purposefully. 

“Is this what you want?” She vented, her voice strong and loud ramming into his ears. “To stay here and drown out all of your problems with your father’s booze? To never know when you could be called upon and coerced into murder?” She was breathing rapidly, venom spitting with every word. “They already tried to make you a murderer and we both know you aren’t one. Tonight he tortured you for nothing! Nothing more than to send a redundant, meaningless, message. Lucius, Bellatrix, Snape, they didn’t give a damn about you. Is that what you want for the rest of your life? This stagnant pit of despair where no one cares about you and your life amounts to nothing? You’d never be free of them. They might be your family but they will only bring you down, shaving off bits and pieces of you until there is nothing left.”

He stood up slowly, feeling the frustration of four years swell in his throat. “How would it be any different if we ran away?” He snapped, his eyes darkening under the stress of the situation, and tilted his head mockingly. “Let’s say we do manage to escape from underneath his nose, which reminder we can’t.” He pointed out deftly, lifting his brand beneath her face. “We’re always going to be looking over our shoulders. No matter what happens, he’s always going to have an eye on us. Look at what he did to your father for Merlin’s sake!” He spat, getting entirely worked up. “Isn’t it better to stay where we can keep an eye of our own on the madness? If we leave, the only thing we have waiting for us is death and it won’t be a pleasant one.”

She fell silent, her eyes looking up at him with such pity that it confused him. “I would rather live out there for a week than stay here and help him a moment longer.”

It was there that he knew, whatever he chose to do, that she had already made her choice and there would be no convincing her otherwise. For a girl that cowered and had no real opinions of her own only a year ago, she had drastically evolved to something he couldn’t reach.

She twisted and headed for the wardrobe, opening the door and beginning to pull things out.

He sighed grabbing at his forehead. “Where are you even going to go Em? You don’t have any parents. You don’t remember anyone or anything. You’ve got nothing out there.” He knew that it was a low blow, but she was slipping through his fingers and he was grasping for anything to find his footing as the structures of his haven began falling around him.

She had now moved to their respective trunks and began filing through them, not even pausing at his heartless questioning. “The muggle world obviously. He can’t navigate it as well as say Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade. Plus I think you’re forgetting he has bigger plans on his mind than hunting down two rouge wizards. Sure, maybe if he does kill Harry tomorrow we’d be his next target, but that is a huge if.” She rested back on her knees and gave him a resolute stare. “And I’m tired of living my life on what ifs. With enough head start and assimilation, we’d have a chance, a real chance.”

He licked his lips. Sure, logically everything she was saying made sense, but logic wasn’t the only thing they would be going up against; and historically logic hadn’t always been on their side.

She began packing clothes into a bag, looking around the room, specifically through him, for things to take with her. Her multitasking in the midst of such a heavy conversation annoyed Draco to the point where his jaw was clenching painfully.

He reached out and grabbed her arm, swinging her around to look at him. Hunched over so that they were eye level, he whispered darkly, “What do you think he’s going to do when you don’t show up tomorrow night? And if you haven’t forgotten, he’ll know wherever you go.”

“He doesn’t actually need me. I’m used as a distraction and precaution. He wouldn’t come looking for me because I’m a missing piece he needs, he’d come looking for me just to spite me for being clever enough to slip out of his chains. Which I have a way around.”

He blinked. “Come again?”

She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Draco, what is my most basic ability?”

He looked down at her small hands and licked the inside of his cheek. “You think you can heal the dark mark.”

She nodded, pulling her own arm out for inspection. “I already tried it a little. See, the edges are softened. I don’t know if he’ll notice when its removed.”

He sunk to his knees in front of her and grabbed her forearm gently, rubbing his long fingers over her mangled mark- that was quite possibly so disfigured because it had always been resisting and trying to heal itself. He sighed deeply, suddenly very glad his father had not let him drink. “You might have led with that.” He murmured.

There on his knees before his guardian angel with clipped wings, he took a deep internal count of all that had passed since Ember had shown up on his doorstep. She brought the beginning of the ever looming shadow; a year of nothing but rain. She had changed everything until it was all shifted and broken like a callous mosaic. Things never questioned were suddenly thrust onto the chopping block with new perspective. Every time he had ever felt inwardly wrong, every moment that he felt looked over, every instant that made him doubt his life was just lifeless embers waiting for her to set ablaze. Was that the fire he felt stir in him now?

He had spent the last three months, years even, wallowing in self-pity and in fear of someone who didn’t even think him worthy of proper punishment. He was the one to come up with the brilliant idea of how to invade Hogwarts and executed it perfectly. That was all him. And yet none of them ever thought that he could do it. Draco had just been a winding detour; a test intended to fail and humiliate his father. They all thought of him as a failure when he hadn’t really failed at all.

He did feel shaved down; let out in the rain until he rusted. He’d been handed over to Voldemort by his family just as Ember’s parents had handed her over to him. It was selfish and cruel. His mother, who had never truly wanted to be involved with the Death Eaters, had just bitten her tongue all these years until she was nothing but marbled stone without convictions. His father, a man he had wrongly looked up to and respected, had only wilted underneath Voldemort; bent down so low that he tossed his son into the fire in the name of glory without a second glance. 

They had been worshipping a half-man who’s vindictive goal was to kill a boy who managed to best him at the age of one. Purging the world of mixed magical blood was nothing that could ever truly be achieved; nor did it need to. Deep in his bones he knew that blood didn’t make a wizard. As much as habit told him to hate it, Granger was the smartest witch he’d ever known; and she was a Mudblood.

So why then was he holding on to the charred remains of a soulless life when the sweet girl in front of him was offering another option? The girl who would never hurt a fly and had been brutally tortured into submission by Voldemort. The girl who had literally nothing, not even her own memories, and still had the courage to stand up in front of the room of the damned tonight and cease his torment. The girl who was smart enough to evolve on her own and hoax her way out of a situation. The girl who supported him and believed in him when she didn’t even believe in his purpose. The girl who stayed by his side, and was subjugated to endless nights at Voldemort’s side for it, because she knew that he couldn’t have survived back here on his own. The girl who despite her only reason for existing being to become his wife, still managed to look up at him with love in her eyes.

She saw right through him. Through all the bitterness, false devotion, and mindless faults- she saw him.

When he thought about it, it was simple. He never wanted to be parted from her. And after everything she had given up on his behalf, the decision was easy; he could leave his family, that was nothing but pain, for her comforting warmth.

He kissed her, short and meaningfully, before beginning to pack on his own.

~

They took their time. Draco had convinced her that it would be smarter to wait until dawn before trying to escape. He had also taken to enchanting the backpack Ember had started packing in with the undetectable extension charm so there was enough room to pack anything they needed.

Ember was placing two thin books in the bag when she paused rigidly. 

“What?” He asked, wondering if she had already changed her mind. He admitted that it was worth a shot to escape this place, but it was still just above a suicide mission.

She looked to him with determined eyes. “We have to warn Harry.”

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply through his nose. Switching his entire belief system was one thing, that he was still working on honestly, but his hatred for Potter ran deeper and was a whole other. “Why in the bloody hell would we warn Potter? How would we even do that without giving away our own plans?”

She sat on the back of her heels and frowned at him. “I know that you don’t like him, and honestly he’s not my favorite person in the world either, but if we don’t warn him and Voldemort does kill him tomorrow, we are just one more step higher on his kill list. Besides Potter might be our only hope to kill the bastard. And most importantly, if we don’t we’re no better than the rest of the Death Eaters.”

She wanted to be better than them, and he wanted to be better for her. Draco huffed but conceded. “Fine. How do you suppose we warn him?”

She smiled, pleased. “That’s easy. We just send him an anonymous letter and hope he understands.”

He gave her the look he always gave her when she was being just a bit too naïve, but said nothing in this case. If that was how easy it was going to be to ease her conscious then he wasn’t going to argue. “Alright. Write your letter and we’ll send it in the morning.”

She was already walking towards the desk and pulling parchment out before the full sentence left his lips.

He sighed with a roll of his eyes but made his way towards the wardrobe, digging into the very back of it. He grasped the dark handle of his Nimbus 2001, something he hadn’t ridden in almost two years. He placed it gently on their bed next to the open backpack. “We need to make a stop at Diagon Alley before vanishing off the wizarding radar. We’ll send it from the owlery there. Any of our owls would be spotted immediately.” 

Her pen scratched the paper as she multitasked. “Why else do we need to go to Diagon Alley?”

He finally tore his eyes off his once most prized possession to the one that replaced it. She was looking at him curiously. “Because we’re going to stop at Gringotts and I’m going to withdraw my inheritance. It’ll give us something to live off of for a while.”

She paused, nodding at the plan, only a little frustrated that she hadn’t thought of that. She had assumed they would lay low and live off the land and their magic; maybe find a tent and camp out for a few weeks before trying to find work somewhere. Being able to have money would make things much easier. She couldn’t really picture Draco camping anyway.

He pointed his wand at his broom and whispered, “Reducio!” The broom immediately shrunk so that it could fit in the palm of his hand, before he fit it in the side pocket of the sack.

He looked around his room, taking in everything that he owned and wondered if he had ever really needed any of it. All the mindless trinkets that he had never even taken to Hogwarts, all the expensive clothes; some of which he had never even worn. He grabbed just one picture of his family, taken just before he left for his first year of school, and stuffed it deep into the bag. There would be no coming back to this place.

Ember had finished writing the letter. It was simple and straight to the point. Voldemort is coming the night of August eleventh. Get out while you can. From a friend. She placed it in one of the handy envelopes Draco left on the desk for when he had actually written his friends, and scribbled the address Snape had declared earlier.

Snape. She felt a twinge at the thought of never seeing the professor she had spent so many hours with. He had never become truly heinous in her eyes even though she had witnessed him murder. But then she remembered the taciturn way he looked at her this evening and forcibly locked Snape away in the back of her mind. She would live just fine if she never saw him again. In fact for her and Draco’s sake she hoped that she never did. She hoped that she never saw any of them ever again.


	32. Alone Together

“I don’t know where you’re going, but do you have room for one more troubled soul?”  
-Fall Out Boy, Alone Together

They managed to get a few hours of sleep between them before rising from the bed and dressing in their best walking outfits. It had been debated whether they should try apparating from their room or try to sneak out the mansion and apparate near the lake. They agreed that even though the bang of disapparating might alert someone to their departure, it was safer than trying to sneak through the house and being caught before they had even had the chance to fly.

With the backpack slung over Draco’s shoulder’s and his wand gripped tightly in his hand, he laid his left arm in Ember’s waiting hands. 

She studied the dark mark, hoping beyond hope that she hadn’t fooled herself into believing that she could heal this irreversible blemish. Her index finger traced over the curved lines once before squeezing his wrist and his elbow. She focused intently on the mark, singularly concentrating on the depth of the black lines. It happened gradually instead of all at once. Blue suddenly seeped from her fingers and into his skin, wrapping entirely around his arm with a violent chill until it met the mark and embraced it. The lines of the brand grew warm until it blazed against his skin, causing him to hiss, before becoming blindly illuminated in a white glow.

Then it was gone. As if it never happened.

She smiled brightly, proudly, up at him but didn’t waste a moment before beginning the same process on her own. It took much longer than his had, the wrinkles of her disfigured brand refusing the blinding white glow. She didn’t give up and slowly the mark embraced the resistance and grew dimmer and dimmer until it too was gone.

Draco smirked, only slightly amazed that she had actually been able to do it. Not knowing what repercussions this might have caused on Voldemort’s side of the mark, they hastily took a deep breath and prepared to leave.

So, with one last glance at his childhood home, Draco took a terrified gulp and grabbed Ember’s hand in his. She squeezed it tight, revealing her own fears or trying to comfort his, was unclear. He gave her a sideways glance before nodding and turning on the spot, leaving nothing but a thunderous bang, and the shattering of their chains, behind them.

~

The walk along the rickety cobblestones is a quiet one. It was still early enough that there was scarcely anyone about the streets of Diagon Alley. Only a few wizards were around hoping to beat the conglomerate of bodies in their commute to work. But even then, no one took notice of the couple that leisurely made their way towards the large leaning grey bank.

They hadn’t needed to say any words, holding hands was enough. Both of them were in a decent amount of shock; that they had actually managed to escape without a cloaked figure apprehending them and had the guts to abandon everything they had ever had. Not that it was much in retrospect, Draco thought, no longer disillusioned to the careful manipulation he had been placed under his entire life. No, he thought, whatever they left behind will be nothing compared to their future. 

When they were just a block away from Gringotts, Draco paused on a corner; away from the odd passerby’s stares. “I’ll need to go in alone. It will be less suspicious that way.”   
He told her, staring at the bank and thinking that everything should be fine. He was of age, there was no real reason for them to refuse him. Still, goblins were goblins and even more paranoid than he was.

She stared up at him with eyes that betrayed her calm exterior. She understood that, yes, logically the general public still didn’t know who she was and that goblins were notoriously skeptical creatures. She understood that it was best for Draco to go in by himself. But none of these logics settled the fear that suddenly took her heart.

What if he left her here on the corner? What if in the time it took for him to get in and out of the Malfoy vault, he reconsidered his decision and left back for the manor? It wasn’t fair to think that of him, and logically she knew that the chances of him abandoning her were slim, but everyone that she had ever known had left her behind and this situation that she had procured of her own volition threatened her rational. 

When she hadn’t responded, he looked to see her scanning their surroundings nervously and saw a mix of doubt and fear cloud her eyes, and he knew the way the gears were turning in her head. She was fiddling with his fingers restlessly without realizing that she was.

He grabbed both of her hands in his and squeezed them tightly until she met his eyes. “I’ll be right back. I promise.” He whispered ardently. His eyes trustworthy, his words earnest. She nodded her head shakily.

“Should I go to the post while you’re in Gringotts?” She whispered, nearly stuttering over her words with her racing nerves. The sooner they got done with these very important errands, the sooner they could get far away from anywhere remotely magical.

He bounced the idea in his mind. He didn’t like the fact that they were separating, even though he was fixed to leave her there and separate from her anyway. It was probably less suspicious for her to go run the damn Potter saving errand than to have her stand on the corner.

“Okay.” He begrudgingly agreed. “Do you know where the post is?”

She nodded, her hands still clasped tightly in his.

“Meet back here in twenty minutes?” He asked for confirmation.

“Yeah.” She shakily agreed.

He nodded firmly, trying to find the strength to actually embark on their little adventure. He took the straps off their backpack and held it out for her. “It makes more sense for you to have it.” He explained. She turned and let him help put the straps over her shoulders. 

She turned back around, uncertainty still shining brightly through the deep green of her eyes. “Twenty minutes.” She reaffirmed.

She looked so small standing on that corner, with all the weight of the galaxies on her shoulders. He bent down and pressed his lips to her forehead, resting them their comfortingly and squeezing her fingers. “We can do this.” He reminded her. She nodded, her hair tickling the tip of his nose, hanging on to his every word. 

Quickly, before he decided that this whole thing was pointless and demanded that they return back to the manor before anyone truly noticed their disappearance, he turned on his heel and made his way towards the looming building.

~

Twenty minutes later, Ember was shifting from foot to foot anxiously on the corner they had separated from, her eyes keenly watching the doors of the bank.

Her side of the errands had been unnoteworthy. She had made it to the post in record time and made sure that the owl she had been given had the exact address. She even asked the shopkeeper, a bored looking bloke in his early twenties, how soon the letter might be dropped off. It only occurred to her as she was reevaluating the dull exchange on her way back to the corner that the boy had probably been a squib. 

Now she waited, starting to border on impatiently, for Draco to come striding back down the cobblestones to her. Every minute passed twenty was a minute that tightened her chest with doubt. The streets were showing their first signs of true activity and they needed to leave the crowds sooner rather than later. No one knew Ember, but Draco with his bright, unmistakable, blonde hair might as well have been a shining beacon follow them. The fewer witnesses to them, the better.

Just then, as she was on the very edge of having a fully-fledged mental breakdown, she felt a hand grab her wrist from behind her. She jumped with a little yelp, completely startled. She twisted rapidly, prepared to idiotically reveal her powers right there on the side of the road, when she was met with Draco’s familiar blue eyes. He put a finger over his lips and dragged her away from the edge of the street and into an undisclosed alley where they had less of a chance of being spotted.

“Are you okay? Why did it take so long?” She whispered, insistently, when Draco had stopped pulling her into the shadows.

He sighed, brushing a hand through the hair that fell into his eyes agitatedly. “I ran into Parkinson’s father on the way out. I had to make nonsensical conversation with him to ward off suspicion and trust me he was suspicious enough.”

The portly pug-faced man had caught Draco off guard. Entering the vault and reasonably grabbing enough gallons to make them comfortable and getting them converted into muggle currency had gone off well enough with only two more cautious glances from the goblins than normal. He had been so relieved with how seamless it had been that he hadn’t even noticed that he had practically run right into Harold Parkinson.

“How did it go with you?” He asked, feeling winded with the adrenaline rushing through his veins and it was not yet eight in the morning.

“Good. I even found somewhere for us to go.” She turned to dig into one of the front pockets of their backpack still strapped to her back.

Draco’s curiosity was peaked. Last night as they had numbly laid together on their bed for the last time, they had debated on where they would go once the errands at Diagon Alley were completed. The problem was that Draco had rarely been anywhere that didn’t have some connection to the magical world and Ember, though clearly having been distant from the magical world, couldn’t remember anywhere accurately enough to apparate to it. They had eventually put a pin in the conversation, figuring that if it really came down to it, they could board a train at King’s Cross and go from there.

Ember turned back around with a postcard in her hand. She twirled it on the tips of her fingers so that the photo part faced him. He stared at the small moving picture of several buildings surrounding some sort of canal system; a boat on the water rushing towards them over and over again. The words Ottawa, Canada were written in neat lettering in the corner.

“Canada?” He questioned not unsurely.

She shrugged, the first positive emotion echoing in her eyes since they had departed the manor. “Who would expect us to go there? It’s a continent away. I can speak French, or at least I use to be able to speak French.” She took a deep breath, fidgeting with the edges of the picturesque postcard. “I saw it in the entrance to the shop. We don’t have any other ideas and it’s a good place to start.” She looked down at his lack of response and murmured, “Might even be a good place to lay low for a while.” 

She was rambling in the way that endeared him. Sometimes she would get so flustered over what he thought about her ideas or opinions that she would fret about him like a dramatic hummingbird. It never ceased to cause him pause that she still thought he would cruelly call her ideas irrelevant. Maybe once upon a time, a lifetime ago, he would have heartlessly crushed her with quick words, but not now when she had saved his skin just as much as he had saved hers, if he ever had. “Sounds great. You think the postcard will be enough to apparate?”

She licked her lips, ceasing her rambling, and stared down at the moving photograph. “There’s only one way to find out.” She pocketed the card and reached for his hand. 

They had both agreed that Ember was the stronger apparater between the two of them, especially when the location consisted of somewhere neither had been before. She had relatively extensive practice in that department. 

With another reassuring squeeze, and a few deep breaths, the couple turned on the spot. A swirling of grounded leaves in a darkened alley the only reminder that they had been there.

~

The pulling and compressing of limbs was prolonged. The darkness blurred with shapes and colors revolving around them much longer than was usual. They held onto each other’s hands tightly, bordering on painful, until they were finally settled on the ground.

The air was crisp and smelled a bit musky due to the water of the river. The river they had seen in the postcard was to their left, water a deep sparkling blue. A few speed boats were docked on either side. Lush green trees and scattered lamp posts, that were just about to turn off their lights for the morning, filled the embankment. Up ahead they could see small bridges connecting the roads of the embankment to the town above. It was beautiful and such a drastic change from the manor, already lifting their minuscule spirits.

It was dreadfully early in the morning due to the time difference. Dew still mingled in the air, the sky a violet blended with pink. There were no muggles around to their immediate relief.

Ember stared disbelievingly at the changed scenery. She had daydreamed of this exact scenario but had never really dared to think that it would actually be possible, let alone with Draco by her side. Draco, while appreciative of the landscape, pulled her hand in his and began walking towards the nearest elevated bridge. His eyes took a quick scan of the area. “We need to exchange the currency, then find a hotel somewhere.”

She nodded, squeezing his hand as they began to walk the streets of Ottawa with nothing more than the clothes on their back, a rucksack of necessities, and high hopes. 

Once they were up off the embankment and on the proper streets, more people were coming out from their apartments and cars began littering the roads in early morning traffic. They were lucky that the postcard had picked a touristy part of the country. It took them five minutes to find a map, stating that they were by the Rideau River, and ten after then to find a currency exchange center.

It was pressed in between tourist shops and virtually ignored by the current wandering muggles. There was a cheerful man sat behind plexiglass that smiled at the couple when they approached. “Good morning! How may I help you?”

His smile was genuine but Ember felt Draco’s palm begin to sweat in hers. He had never had to deal with muggles before and was therefore out of place among them. Ember smiled, only now appreciating the barrier breaking that dealing with Death Eaters had given to her confidence. “Good morning. My husband and I were wondering how the exchange works.”

The man, Curtis she realized by his name tag, perked up in his seat. “Oh! On our honeymoon are we?”

She was relieved to remember that the dress she was wearing today happened to be a pearl white with lace trim around the collar that would help sell the lie. She curtsied charmingly. “How could you tell?”

“Well where are the lovebirds from may I ask?” The man asked, beginning to type something into a machine that Ember vaguely recognized but could not put a name to. 

“London.” Draco answered, twisting Ember sideways so that he could dig in their bag for the hefty sum of pounds the goblin had given him. He placed the money on the counter, sliding it under the partition.

The man’s fast fingers froze on the buttons, his mouth gaping a bit at the sheer amount of money before him. When he raised his eyes back to them it was with an inquisitive brow. “You don’t have a card?”

Draco paused, wondering what the fuck he meant by card. Luckily, Ember seemed to understand the muggle world better than him. “No, you see we’d like to use the money we got from the wedding. Easier to separate the finances.”

The man smile returned to purely agreeable. “Oh well I can understand that. You two just give me a moment to process the exchange.” He gathered the pounds and began to type away again on the buttons.

With a lull in the conversation, Ember began gently caressing the back of Draco’s hand comfortingly. His body had slowly begun to tense as the conversation progressed. He wasn’t use to being so out of his element and it terrified him to think that this is the world he was choosing to live in. He was already beginning to miss the simplicity that came along with magic.

The man spun around in his chair and leaned over to a smaller machine. A loud clinking sounded from the booth as the man fed their pounds in. He turned back to them a moment later with slim sheets of paper, money, in various shades. He told them their amount and Ember frowned. They didn’t know the exchange rate, but before she could ask the kind man for a briefing, he handed them a slim card that had the exchange rate written out on it. He must have seen the intimidated looks on their faces.

They left with a sigh of relief. Their first muggle hurdle had been completed with little stumbling. 

“You were great back there.” Draco complimented as they walked down the street.

She shrugged. “I guess I’m not as shy anymore. One good thing to come out of this mess.”

He squeezed her hand. “I can think of a few good things to come out of this mess.” His voice was laced with double meaning and it didn’t take Ember long to blush crimson.

~

After walking for another half hour, they finally came to the foot of a humble looking hotel. The building was only three stories high and crammed between a restaurant and a construction contractor’s office. 

Draco sighed, not liking the thought of slumming it and Ember had to contain her snort. She knew then that camping with Draco would never have gone over well.

The man at the front desk was courteous enough to give them one of the only rooms left considering it was the end of the summer holidays and even let them check in early. When asked how long they planned to stay, Ember questioned whether they could pay by the day and the man agreed. It wasn’t until they were in their designated room, 312, with the door locked and bolted that both of them felt an ounce of peace.

Draco flung himself down onto the bed, the shock of it all unwavering. 

Ember placed their bag next to the lone dresser and strode over to the window. She glanced out a the view of the street buzzing below and shut the drapes before turning on the tall lamp in the corner of the room.

He watched her take in the room and beckoned her to come lay down next to him. She kicked off her shoes and obeyed, curling beside him on the bed, her head resting beside him. He turned onto his side and draped one arm around her loosely, closing his eyes.

“Do you think they’ve noticed yet?” She whispered softly after a long while.

His eyes blinked back open and he glanced down at his watch, still not use to the blank space of his arm where the dark mark had been. It was the middle of the afternoon back at the manor. “If they haven’t, they will soon enough.”

A thoughtfully stubborn look contorted her features. “They can’t trace us though. They won’t know where to look. We should be safe.”

“Theoretically.” He mumbled a moment later, daunted.

~

The silence lasted for hours as they waited for the unknown, speaking in hushed tones every so often. It would have been the perfect chance to take a nap and regain some of the sleep they lost the night before but both were too paranoid to fall asleep. They knew that they wouldn’t be able to breathe in relative peace until tomorrow, after the would be execution of one Harry Potter.

Ember spent most of the time hoping that Harry had received her letter and had heeded her words. The survival of her and Draco now rested on the survival of Harry. If he died, Voldemort would come after them next. She prayed that Narcissa and Lucius would not be wrongfully punished for their departure. She didn’t want to mention the possibility to Draco. She was worried for him enough as it was. Above all else, she hoped that he would not grow to resent her.

She didn’t need to tell him that his parents could very possibly be tortured come this evening, he already knew that was a very real possibility. In truth, he didn’t care if his father was tormented and abused. His mind was preoccupied with sorting through the events of his life and how they had all become tangled with compelled beliefs. He saw now that he should have seen the signs earlier, and maybe he even had in a warped sort of way; in the way that you can’t actually comprehend. He had let alcohol dim everything so that he could refuse to acknowledge his identity crisis among other things. Ignorance was not always bliss, or hell, maybe it was. He’d given almost anything to still be shadowed in ignorance if only to be able to breathe without wondering if it was going to be his last. No, he didn’t care if they mutilated, tormented, or beat Lucius, but Merlin, please don’t harm his mother. He hoped that if Voldemort didn’t kill her that her broken heart wouldn’t.

When it got to be dusk, Ember suggested that they go and get food from the restaurant next to the hotel. Her stomach had started to growl ferociously realizing that she hadn’t eaten since early the day before.

It was just another reminder of how far Draco had fallen, or come, depending on the way one looked at it. He had always had elves of some kind to serve him food. He had never had to worry where he was going to get his next meal. It hadn’t even been twenty four hours and he was already moaning about having to deal with the muggles.

The donned their shoes and shuffled next door. It was a delicatessen that served nothing worthwhile, but it was food. They returned to their room fifteen minutes later with their food and triple checked that their door was locked, not that it would really be able to stop anyone who would come after them. Draco placed a few protective spells around the room, but wasn’t confident that it would really be able to do much to protect them.

They sat on their bed and ate their meager dinner in silence. The events of the past two days weighed too heavily to simply break with unnecessary small talk and when dinner was over they crawled into bed wearily. 

They didn’t sleep though. The both waited out the night with batted breath as the attempted assassination, a world away at 12 Grimmauld Place, failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where it starts getting interesting!


	33. Domesticated Runaways

“I wanna see the sunrise and your sins, just me and you.”  
-Zayn, Dusk Till Dawn

They spent three days locked in that hotel room by the Rideau. Words between them came easier as the days passed. Each day that went uneventfully by gave them more reassurance that they might just skate by underneath the radar entirely.

The second day, the two of them discovered the television. Draco, bored, had begun to inspect the room as Ember lounged on the bed with one of the books she had managed to stash. He opened the drawer of the nightstand to discover a long rectangular remote. They both stared at it curiously before he pushed down the large, beckoning, red button and the black box across from the bed came to life.

Draco had dropped down, eyes just over the bed, as a tall Asian man began talking to them through the box while chopping up an onion. It then slid together like a puzzle piece in Ember’s mind that the black box was a television. She laughed at Draco’s reaction and explained to him that it wasn’t magic and was intended for entertainment purposes only. After she had shown him how to change the programs, Draco found himself entertained for the rest of the day, completely mesmerized by the stories unraveling before him.

By the third day, both of them were getting stir crazy and tired of eating sandwiches at every meal. Draco kept making overdramatic disgusted faces as they ate their lunch of cold turkey on rye and with one more snarl, Ember snapped. “Alright, we need to think about where to go next.”

Draco flung his half-eaten lunch down, glad to be distracted from the pathetic excuse of a meal. “Agreed. Where did you have in mind?”

She swallowed the last bit of her own lunch and gulped down some chilled water. “I think it’s smarter to stay near bigger cities. It will help us blend in.”

“Yeah,” He mused. “But if they are searching for us, they’ll bet on us staying in cities. Of course, I believe they all underestimate us. They probably just think we went a few cities over, not another continent.”

“Let’s hope.” Ember looked at the space between them. “Snape knows. He’s the only one that might be able to deduce our thought process, but still I doubt he would jump to the conclusion of Canada.”

Draco watched her closely, only now realizing how deep her connection to Snape might have run. She hadn’t shown an ounce of remorse for leaving anyone behind, mostly because she didn’t have anyone; except she did, in the perpetually bitter potions master.

“I like the idea of moving around, but we can’t sustain that forever. We’ll need to find a place to settle down eventually, even if it’s only for a few months at a time.” He stated, trying to steer the conversation back to the future rather than fixate on the past.

“Where do you want to go?” She asked.

He bit the inside of his lip, mulling over what the best possibility for them might be. “Let’s stay in Canada. No one would ever think that we’d come this way, but let’s go further out and less metropolitan. Somewhere with just enough tourists to conceal us but not enough to make it a tourist attraction. Plus, we won’t have to keep changing the currency.”

Ember got up from her seat and walked back towards their bag. They hadn’t unpacked it in the case that they needed to apparate in a hurry. She dug out one of the maps she purchased when they were in the café the day before and brought it back over to the table. Draco had already put his feet up on her seat and she glared at the intrusion before he rolled his eyes and relinquished his foot rest. She sat back down with a humph as he brushed away the remains of their lunch and unfolded the map.

They looked at it awhile before finding the small town of Saint-Sauveur, Quebec. It was a smaller village styled town in the mountains an hour away from Montreal and was home to no less than three ski-resorts. It would be the perfect place to settle for a while, but on Ember’s insistence, they picked a few places to apparate to before; just to throw anyone who might be tailing them, or eventually tail them, off their trail.

That night before purchasing their dinner, they drifted into one of the tourist shops and made quick work of the rolling stand of postcards. It had worked once before, and would be the easiest way to allow them to apparate. Of course the pictures on these postcards were not moving, but Ember thought that it wouldn’t matter much to the general principle.

On the outside, the two of them looked like any other couple having a sweet holiday. They debated heatedly on which postcards to purchase; Draco teasingly holding one of Toronto high above Ember’s head until she devolved into giggles trying to get it back. Their faces flushed, eyes beaming, anyone could tell that they were in love.

Once they had picked no less than five postcards, Ember drifted down the aisles. Most of them were filled with novelty items such as t-shirts and keychains with letters spelling out Ottawa excitedly. But near the back of the shop was more practical things and she picked up two reusable water bottles, an umbrella, and a large bag of trail mix. She paused only once more on her way to the register at the sight of a pack of playing cards. Quickly, as if it had always been there, she remembered long nights spent playing card games in dorm rooms filled with laughter. She grabbed the pack immediately.

The next morning, they placed their keycard and a handsome tip on the dresser and apparated to the first postcard they saw after shuffling the deck.

~

Two weeks they bounced around Canada. From Lunenburg, to Vancouver to Whitehorse, then to Alberta. They stayed in hotels they found near tourist attractions, eating cheap fast food, and watching hours of television to pass the time. They never stayed in one place for more than four days and they never ventured out more than a block radius from their hotels. This consolidated the time spent out in the open down to only getting food, which in return made them feel safer. You can’t have witnesses if you stay where there can be no witnesses. It was stressful moving around, constantly jumbling their routines, but the more they moved around and had yet to be found, the more comfortable they became.

They could both now sleep through the night.

When they ran out of postcards, they finally apparated to Saint-Sauveur. Fall had just taken hold of the village and the colors were comforting and appealing. Leaves were falling and the air smelled richly of autumn when they touched down on a dirt path. Ember immediately breathed in a lung full and Draco couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips. She was becoming more comfortable and open the longer they stayed away from the wizarding world. It was like watching a late blooming flower blossom into the most beautiful creation.

This time they ventured further away from the tourist traps and came upon a small inn further up the slopping mountains. It was located so that it only took a quick ten minute walk to reach the main street of the village. The woman who ran the inn was named Maria. She was older in age but young in spirit and was absolutely delighted to have a young couple stay with her for at least a few weeks. She even let them have a slightly bigger room with no extra charge.

It took a few nights, but slowly they began to settle. Ember finally unpacked their things and put them in their own places. They didn’t subjugate themselves to staying inside their room anymore. Each day they would amble further into the town, stepping into shops and actually eating inside the dining areas at restaurants.  
It was nice, for a time. 

Draco easily fell back into a solemn depression. Finally becoming stationary removed the constant adrenaline that had flowed in his veins since the morning they left the manor. It was different than before. Before he was struggling to cope with his false failures, now he was trying to cope with stress of everything he had left behind, both good and bad. He didn’t have the energy to fight it and wished that he had alcohol to burn the doubts and revelations away. Ember let him be for two days before she begged him to go back into town with her. He snapped at her, angry at everything, even her. She sighed and left without him. 

It was the first time they had been separated since the manor and she found herself a little skittish walking the streets alone. She itched to be beside him but not when he was this unresponsively responsive.

She leisurely made her way around the town, stopping in a few shops before finding a boutique that somehow called into her soul. She entered with a strange feeling and left with an entirely different wardrobe. The woman who had helped her had been extremely confused when Ember told her that she had never worn pants before, but was nonetheless professional and brilliant at finding the proper pants for her. She left the boutique in a pair of black jeans and a yellow sweater, feeling like an entirely different version of herself. Three more pairs of pants and four more tops swung in the bag by her side.

Next, she found an old second-hand bookshop and fell in love with the rows upon rows of books. She spent nearly two hours there and purchased two books. She also pocketed the information that they were hiring since a few of their workers were going back to university.

As she made her way back towards the inn, she stepped into a convenience store to pick a few things before striding across the street and grabbing a few burgers in a makeshift dinner to take back to her irritable husband. By the time she was walking back up the stairs to their room, her arms were laden with bags.

Draco was hunched up on a chair lazily looking out their window when she opened the door. She closed it right behind her and made sure that it was bolted shut before gliding into the room and placing the bags on the small table. He barely looked over his shoulder.

“I brought dinner.” She said casually beginning to unpack the boxed burgers.

“I’m not hungry.” He mumbled.

She paused, only slightly crestfallen, and paced her way over to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders. “You need to eat. I also might have found something you’ll like.”

He looked over his shoulder at her with curiosity. She smiled, knowing that she had won, and walked back over to the table.

Draco’s eyes followed her and widened exponentially. He turned his whole torso around to follow her every move. Her long legs clad in tight jeans almost caused his knees to buckle underneath him- and he was sitting in a damn chair. “Em,” He breathed, “Holy shit.”

She tilted her head at him, not expecting his breathless tone, and bit into a French fry. “What?”

“Why did you? How did you? When did you get new clothes?”

She looked down at her attire, clueless as to how it mattered to him. “I went shopping today. I don’t ever remember wearing pants. I think my parents kept me in dresses for whatever screwed up reasons they had. I think I like them.” She tossed her legs forward, testing the elasticity. “They give me more freedom. I could run, like actually run, in these without worrying about my dress blowing up to my chin.”

He sauntered over to her in a trance, his heart thudding dangerously in his chest. He wanted to canonize her legs, to take each one in his hands and trace his lips over their every curve. When he got close enough to the table, he sat down in the lone chair and reached out to take Ember’s hips in his hands. She gave him a puzzled look, not that he noticed, but let him grab her without complaint. His eyes raked over her thighs clad in skin tight material and twisted her hips so that her perfectly round posterior was on display. “Fuck…” He whispered softly to save himself from moaning.

She looked over her shoulder nervously before turning back around to face him, his hands staying at her hips. “Do you not like them?” She asked, suddenly very self-conscious.

His eyes darted to hers. “I love them,” He corrected. “They look wonderful on you.” 

She blushed and tried to contain the small smile threatening to take over her lips. She was starting to learn that attention from Draco was different than attention from other males. She wanted attention from him. She brought the other chair back over to the table, to the pout of Draco who was hoping she would sit in his lap, and sat down before pushing one of the burgers towards him. He took it good-naturedly and began to munch on it without any further probing from Ember.

She smiled secretly and continued to nibble on her fries.

“What did you find for me?” He asked after a moment.

She gave him a surprisingly smug look. “I’ll show you when you’ve finished your dinner.”

He playfully glared at her and through a wayward pickle in her direction at the banter. She giggled slightly and dodged it easy enough. When their burgers were almost gone and the fries had been demolished (Ember had found that she really loved French fries), the light atmosphere still hung over them in a blissful cloud. Ember carefully maneuvered the conversation towards the hippogriff between them. “How are you really doing?” She asked softly.

He wiped his mouth with one of the crinkled napkins and threw it onto the table with a disheartened sigh. He knew as well as she did that he needed to vent about it. She was all he had left, and that was not an entirely unwelcomed idea but a terrifying thought nonetheless. He frowned in further thought. Had this been how she felt all along? How graceful she held herself together under such stress that Draco was only beginning to understand. “I’m just adjusting. Everything is so different and yet entirely the same. I keep remembering things and now seeing them in a different light and its painful and liberating and just headache inducing. I wish I knew what happened to them after we left, especially my mother.”

Ember leaned forward, debating on taking his hand in hers but thought better than to invade his personal space when he was finally sharing his inner thoughts. “I don’t think he could have done anything to your mother.” She told his softly.

He gave her an exhausted, berated, look. She shook her head slightly. “Your mother has always been on the sidelines, never initiated. Why?”

Draco frowned before shrugging one shoulder, not seeing how it mattered. “Because she didn’t want to be.”

She shook her head again. “We didn’t want to be either, not really. Voldemort didn’t need her, she’s not aggressive enough. She’s only protective. He didn’t force her to initiate because her connection through Lucius was enough. I don’t think he’ll hurt her now because if he did, Bellatrix would turn on him. Say what you want about the Black sisters, but they are fiercely protective of their own. Your aunt might be a psychopath but one thing I know for sure is that she would do anything for your mother. Vold-“ She huffed out an aggravated sigh. Now that they were no longer on the side of death, they were not allowed to speak Voldemort’s name out loud. He had put a curse on it, basically legitimate taboo, to locate anyone who said his name. “He knows that too.”

Draco’s face relaxed, even though she had nearly slipped up. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He hadn’t put his aunt into the equation. Aunt Bella would protect his mother, he knew it to be true.

“Your father on the other hand…He might be up for grabs, but I like to think that he’s keeping him around. Lucius is smart and now he doesn’t have a wand and he hasn’t truly punished him for his failures. Sure, he made him feel ashamed and perhaps with your father humiliation is worse than the cruciatus curse, but without you there anymore he can’t even properly shame him the way he has been. He won’t kill him without provocation; Lucius is too valuable. He’ll most likely keep them locked in the manor just as he has been.”

“You’ve thought about this a lot.” Draco noticed.

“Well they’re important to you and well technically they’re my family too. It’s my understanding that families are supposed to support one another.” She took a deep shuddering breath, bringing her own fears to the surface. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. They were always as kind as they were able to be with me. Even when you were…” She let out another sigh, pursing her lips. “This is a war and people are going to die, I understand that. I just didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.”

A soft silence settled over them as Draco digested her words. His silence did nothing to assuage her fears and she had to work up the courage low in her belly to ask, “Do you regret coming with me?” 

They had both wished for a quick denial, but it took Draco a minute to gather the right words. “No, I don’t. I didn’t want to be a part of it anymore either. It’s just…my whole life I was taught that we were a cut above the rest. Muggles, mudbloods, blood traitors…they were all cowards and less for it.” His eyes were troubled staring at the wall behind her as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “And that’s not true. I see that now. I should have seen it earlier. He was going to kill you because you weren’t a true witch. If he had, we never would have seen that you are a witch, just a special kind. People, blood races, it shouldn’t matter. What should matter is what a person stands for and I’m ashamed that it took me so long to see that.

“I’m supposed to be smart, but I was blinded by the impressions of others that only left me vulnerable and blindsided. He used me for slaughter and dressed it up to make it seem as if it was my idea, as if I would reap all the glory.” His tone grew extremely bitter. “There was no glory to reap. And if there had been, he would have claimed it himself. How could I have thought that I could kill Albus Dumbledore? Sure, he was a daft old man, but he’s one of the greatest wizards of all time and they sent me, a seventeen year old boy, to murder him?” Draco could still see the old man’s eyes, filled with understanding; filled with pity. “And no one said a thing. No one batted an eye at such a trial. If it hadn’t been for you…I would have drunk myself to death.

“So, you ask if I regret leaving with you, I don’t. I wish things could have happened differently. I wish maybe I listened to you earlier. The choice was always there, I was just too cowardly to realize it. We could have run so long ago and saved us both some nightmares.” He hung his head with a bitter laugh.

“I don’t think you can think about life that way.” She said wisely. “It’ll drive you mad. Yes everything you just said is true. But Drake, give yourself some credit. You were under so much stress, literally under pain of death stress, and I surely didn’t help matters. Like you said, you grew up a certain way, but look at you now. You’ve come so far and all on your own. Everyone makes mistakes, it’s what we learn from them that matters.” She waited until he met her eyes. “Take all the time you need to internalize, but please don’t shut me out and take some time to admire what we have accomplished.”

He held his hands out for her and she quickly stood up and walked over to him. When she was within his grasp, he pulled her gently into his lap and tucked her head underneath his chin. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He sighed into her hair.

She didn’t respond, even though she heard him loud and clear. Instead she snuggled closer to him, clinging to the hope that perhaps venting had defeated some of his demons. He breathed her in for a calming moment. She was his home; wherever she was is where he wanted to be. She battled her own demons all on her own without so much as a peep and he strived to have that kind of strength someday. The girl he held was so little, so fragile in stature, but her mind was the strongest, most resilient, thing he knew and he would never ignore the courage he had to say that enough was enough; the courage she gave him to say that enough was enough. “Now, didn’t you say you had something for me?”

She picked her head up off his chest and gave him a wide sparkling smile. She reached over the table and dragged the plastic bag towards her and went fishing into it. “I know it hasn’t been easy on you giving up the alcohol and we can’t really get you any now, but I might have found something to help take the edge off.” She pulled a small carton of cigarettes and held them out for him to see.

He had seen his father smoke cigars every now and then and knew the basic principle behind the mostly muggle concoction. “How do you know about these?” He questioned, perplexed as he took one out of the pack and twisted it between his thumb and index finger. 

She shrugged. “I saw them in the shop and remembered this girl Lydia that I used to go to school with. She would smoke them every night to take the edge off and to help her stop herself from binge eating.”

He froze, the cigarette suspended between them. “Did you remember that all by yourself?”

She shrugged it off, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Yeah. Sometimes I see things and they jog some memories. Most of them are uneventful.”

He wanted to sing praises to her, to let her know how proud he was of her, but he knew that she was skittish around the subject and chose to only squeeze her closer to him.

“So you like them?”

He placed the filter in between his lips and grinned at her. “I think they’re a great idea.”

And that’s how Draco Malfoy became addicted to nicotine.

~

He woke up extra lethargic. A storm had passed over them through the night and kept waking the two of them. Even though it had been weeks now since they had departed from their confinement, neither of them ever really stopped being cautious. Storms were a good way to conceal wizard battles from the muggles; both of them knew this.

Without opening his eyes he reached his arm out for Ember. She was already sitting up on her side of the bed reading a book quietly. He groaned and snuggled his way into her lap, wrapping one arm around her thighs and nuzzling into the soft fabric covering her stomach. It was so lovely to be able to enjoy this marital domestic bliss. Her fingers began to weave through his hair and he swore he could have purred at the feeling. She was warm and snuggly and all he wanted to do was stay cuddled under the covers with her and waste the day.

“Good morning,” She whispered softly down to him. He hummed in response, still debating on falling back to sleep.

He was so endearing when he woke up as a cuddle monster. She thumbed her place in her book and began to play contently with his hair. It had grown out a bit since she had first met him and she had to say that she liked its current length. 

“Let’s go out and do something.” She suggested, keeping her tone soft to not disturb his peaceful lull.

He re-angled his head so that he could blink up at her like a disgruntled kitten. “Why can’t we just stay in here?” He whined.

“Don’t you want to go outside? Get some fresh air?”

He grumbled. What was so great about outside when she was warm and sweet and entirely lovable from right here?

He pinched the fabric of her shirt in between his finger, rubbing the soft material over the pads of his thumbs and continued to pout. She had a slight point, as she so often had, but he was so tired and wanted nothing more than to stay in their fort of blankets. Fighting depression was exhausting.

“I even know where we can go,” She said enticingly.

“Where?”

She placed her forgotten book away on the nightstand. “Now hear me out before you completely shut this idea down.”

He groaned. “Great. I already hate this idea.”

She glared down at him and removed her fingers from his hair. His pout deepened and he pulled her hand back, placing it back in his hair.

“I found this bookshop on the edge of town yesterday. I spent hours in there. I even talked to the shop owner and his daughter and well, they’re looking to hire a few new employees.”

“No.” The response was immediate.

It was her turn to frown. “But why?”

He sat up, accepting the fact that he would be getting no more snuggly sleep. “For about a thousand reasons.”

“Which would be?”

He sighed, pulling a hand down his face. “We shouldn’t get attached here because more than likely we’ll have to leave sooner rather than later. The less people who know us the better. Plus you need documentation to work, which we don’t have.”

“What if we just interned or something?”

He scowled. Her apprenticeship with Snape was entirely clouding her decision. Didn’t she know that working wasn’t supposed to be enjoyable? “Em…”

“Come on, we need to do something. We can’t just stay locked in this room forever. Didn’t we leave so that we could actually be free?” She paused waiting for that fact to sink in. “Plus it would give us extra money. We’re going to run out of your inheritance eventually. What are we going to do then?”

He didn’t think it would matter if he pointed out that it would be a long time before they ran out of his inheritance. “I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous.”

Which you know it was. The cool down period was still counting down. They’d been lucky so far, but who knew how long that luck was going to run. 

Without his body over hers, she pulled her legs up to her chest and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. “Will you at least come see the store with me before making a decision?”

He didn’t see how seeing the store was going to change a decision he had already made, but if it made her happy then it was a compromise he was willing to give. He stood up from the bed. “Fine, but I’m not going to change my mind.”

She stretched out her arms and legs like a cat waking up from a nap; content enough that he was willing to get out of the room.

She reached for her book once more, seemingly to put an actual bookmark in it this time rather than just turning it upside down, and Draco spotted a bitten into cherry Danish sitting next to her book. “Where did you get that?” He asked, only slightly confused.

Her lips thinned out and she shrugged. “I wanted breakfast and you were still fast asleep.”

The thought that she had somehow managed to sneak out and back into the room without him noticing did not sit right with him. “I don’t like you going out somewhere without me. We shouldn’t separate.”

She picked up the Danish and held it out to him as a peace offering. He leaned over the bed and took a generous bite out of the sweet, humming in approval. “You didn’t seem to mind yesterday.”

Ouch.

“Yeah, well I’m feeling better than I was yesterday. We need to stick together.” He licked the sweet remains of cherry from his lips. “Also we need to come up with a place to meet up if we ever do get separated.”

“There aren’t that many places that we would both be able to apparate to that aren’t in the hot zone.” She reminded him.

He brushed the edge of his thumb around the corner of his bottom lip. Ember’s eyes zeroed in on the action and he was certain that she unconsciously licked her lips. He smirked. “Still, we almost got separated in Diagon Alley. It’s better to have a backup plan and not need it than to not have one at all.” Really, they should have come up with one weeks ago.

“The pond?” She suggested.

“It’s too close to the manor.”

She stood up from the bed. “All the more reason. No one would expect us to apparate somewhere so close to the manor. It’s the perfect concealment. It’s somewhere we both know and it won’t be populated.”

“Alright.” He conceded, having nothing better in mind. “Now that that’s settled.” He took another bite of the pastry still resting in her palm. She gasped.

“I’m going to take a shower and then we can go.”

“That was mine!” She hollered after him, only to hear a mischievous laugh before the door the adjoining washroom closed.

~

He puffed out the smoke from his lungs as they walked down the streets hand in hand. Ember was smiling beside him eagerly pointing out things of interest as they walked across the town. He was happy enough to let her lead the way, wondering if this was how it could have always been had they not been prisoners for the last year and a half. It was nice, as if he was just a boy and she was just a girl; almost as if they were on a date. What an odd thought; they’d never even been on a date.

Lost in his thoughts, he was shocked and dropped the nub of his cigarette when Ember yanked him into a shop.

He had to blink a few times for his eyes to adjust to the dark lighting on the building. It had rows and rows of men’s clothing; shoes were lining the walls and stands of accessories scattered about. He yanked Ember, who was still tromping through the entrance, back to his side. “Sweetheart,” He said lowly, “Why did you drag me in here?”

She glowed those sweet forest green eyes up at him innocently. “I got new clothes, so should you.”

“I don’t need any new clothes.” He mumbled. There was absolutely nothing wrong with his wardrobe, and even if there was, he wasn’t set on attending any dinner parties anytime soon.

She gave him a miffed look. “Your clothes aren’t exactly made for blending in with muggles.” It was, for the most part, the truth. Most of the clothes that he wore out in public were suits that brought more attention to them. Him, being a teenager who wanted to wear suits, was just the cherry on top of ridiculous. “And,” She continued as she dropped his hand and grasped out at a long sleeved red flannel on the rack in front of them. “It’s getting colder, neither of us really packed for it.”

He sighed. He had always hated shopping. He realized that he especially hated muggle shopping.

“Look!” She said pompously, pulling a matching flannel from behind the ruby red. “They even have it in green.”

He couldn’t help the sardonic laugh that escaped him. She was too damn adorable and he was unfortunately realizing that he was fucking wrapped around her pretty little finger.

After Ember had made sure Draco had at least four new outfits, including one leather jacket that looked so good on him it made Ember feel things, the pair stopped next door and grabbed ice cream before continuing their trek to the bookshop.

She made a face after her first bite of her strawberry flavored treat causing Draco to laugh at her screwed tight face. She had never had ice cream before, that she could remember, and had taken just a bit too big of a bite.

“It’s so cold.” She complained, taking another, smaller, tentative lick from her cone- which made Draco feel things.

“Em, it’s iced cream.” He said incredulously with a never faltering grin as he dug into his own mint chocolate chip cone.

Her face deadpanned at him and he cackled loudly throwing an arm around her shoulders and continuing their walk. She had never given him such an annoyed look before, had never had the leverage too and he found that he liked being able to tease her, truly tease her, and get an reaction out of her. With each day they were growing closer. The more comfortable they became with each other, the more they relied on one another.

After a few more minutes, and one and a half demolished ice cream cones later, Draco asked, “And how are you liking it?”

She shrugged underneath his arm. “It’s too cold, but it is really sweet.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Oh! It’s right up here on the left!” She directed easily. She was about to toss what was left of her cone into the rubbish but Draco managed to save it. He gave her a faux exasperated look before devouring the rest himself. How could he be married to someone who didn’t like ice cream?

The shop didn’t look like much. In fact it looked like shit. He figured that the library at the manor had twice as many books as this small, crooked, building could ever hope to hold. Nonetheless, he didn’t want to completely shatter Ember’s good mood, so he let her drag him into Books Less Travelled.

A bell dinged above them as they entered and a voice sounded from the tall wooden counter in the middle. “Oh! You’re back! I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

Draco looked up and found a woman not too much older than himself behind the register. She had short red hair, that reminded him far too much of the damn Weasleys, and a bright white smile pulling at her wine stained colored lips.

Ember dropped his hand and sashayed up to the counter. “Of course I did! They're not too much else to do around here.”

He followed behind her with a loose swagger; his fingers running along the slightly dusty bookshelves, taking in the meager supply of stacked secondhand books.

The woman must have noticed him because the next thing he heard from Ember’s mouth was, “Oh and this is Drew. I told you about him yesterday.”

His eyes flew to Ember at the use of a fake name a little too fast to be classified as casual, but he soon looked back to the woman who had nothing but flirtatious eyes for him.  
“Nice to meet you Drew, I’m Astrid. Emily told me all about how you two have been traveling.” 

Draco nodded at her, not appreciating the big heart eyes or the specifically angled cleavage he was gaining from her. 

Astrid’s eyes dashed back to Ember but they kept extra care to keep Draco in her sights as he continued to roam around the entrance of the shop. “Are you still looking for workers?” Ember asked.

Astrid smiled, and surprisingly it wasn’t false. Draco scoffed at the exchange. This Astrid clearly didn’t see Ember as competition.

“Of course! Papa has been getting stressed since I’m leaving next week.” Her eyes grew conspiratorial as she glanced between them. “Are we interested?”

“Yes!” Ember said enthusiastically. “Well I am.” She emphasized. “Drew here might need more convincing, but Astrid I was wondering if it could be more of a volunteer position.”  
Astrid’s perfectly drawn on eyebrows wrinkled together. “Volunteer? Why would you want to volunteer for a paid position?”

Ember played it off cool, but Draco could see her fingers fiddling with themselves out of the sight of Astrid. “Well you see, we travel a lot. Kind of just floating to wherever the wind takes us, and I would hate to leave suddenly and leave your Papa in a pinch. This way there doesn’t have to be any paperwork and he can still look for other employees.”

If Astrid thought it was strange that Ember brought up paperwork, she didn’t say anything. The red head shrugged gullibly. “Well I can’t see Papa saying no to free labor. Can you come by tomorrow so that I can train you a little?”

Ember twisted around and gave Draco credulous eyes. Her lips formed a little pout and her head tilted just so that the light from the windows glowed off her skin. He let out a sigh; if he wasn’t careful she would end up confiscating anything she wanted from him. But when she asked for something that seemingly wouldn’t put them into any more danger, he couldn’t tell her no. “If it’ll make you happy, sweetheart.” He conceded.

She positively beamed up at him and launched herself into his arms with a hug filled with gratitude that he didn’t feel like he deserved. It seemed ridiculous that she was this excited about working. Draco had never had to consider where he might want to do for a career. With his inheritance he wouldn’t have needed to work. He could have been just like his father, join a council- or three. When he was younger he had the absurd dream of being on a professional Quidditch player or becoming an auror. But the auror dream died when he realized that it was most of his family he would have to hunt down. In retrospect, that should have been his first clue that something wasn’t quite right with his familial beliefs. And as for the Quidditch dream…he hadn’t even been on a broom in almost two years.

He looked over the bundle that was Ember and saw Astrid’s smile droop down her painted face and couldn’t help but smirk into Ember’s hair. 

Ember let him go almost as quickly as she embraced him and turned back to Astrid, who quickly replaced her lapsed smile, and began to chirp different questions to the red head. Draco, feeling as if he wasn’t needed, floated down the rows of books trying to find something of interest. He had red few muggle books in his time, more since Ember had fallen into his life, but still thought they were lacking. It was hard to relate to a world that didn’t have easy access to magic. Yet, unfortunately, that was the world he lived in now and perhaps it would be easier to slip into a muggle façade if he understood their world better.

Half an hour slipped by before Ember came to find him curled in a corner with a copy of The Great Gatsby in his lap. She took a moment to admire him. His hair was falling into his eyes again and his long legs were stretched out taking up half the space of the aisle. It was the first time, besides snuggled up against her, that he had looked relaxed since they had left Hogwarts. “You ready to go, or do you want to stay longer?”

He looked up at her, quickly closed the book and placed it back on the shelf.

Her brows furrowed as he stood up. “Don’t you want to get that and finish it?”

“Nah, let’s go.” He said casually reaching for her hand and making for the exit.

Astrid waved at them as the bell sounded their exit and Ember called out a goodbye.

When they were back on the street with the setting sun now glowing on the pavement, Ember swung their clasped hands back and forth between them. “Astrid invited us to have dinner with her friends.”

Draco said nothing, but rolled his eyes dramatically. That woman would just not give up.

“I said no,” Ember added casually.

Draco pulled on her hand, causing her to meet his confused eyes. “Why would you say no? You seemed perfectly friendly with her back there.”

She shrugged, hoping over a crack in the cement. “Astrid’s nice, but I could tell that you didn’t like her.”

He stopped, causing her to stop as well. Frustrated, she looked up at him as he peered down at her. Her shoulders slumped just a little, “I’m not stupid. I know she was interested in you.”

“She doesn’t know we’re married does she?” Ember shook her head. “Then why didn’t you say something?”

She squeezed his hand and smiled sadly. “Look, I know we don’t exactly look like we belong together. If I got jealous every time a girl looked at you I’d be as green as a grindylow.” Her lips quirked with false amusement and she dropped his hand. “She is gorgeous and aesthetically speaking the two of you would complement each other. I know I can’t compete with her and that’s okay.”

She began to walk again, uncomfortable with the conversation. She tried not to think about outside forces, besides the obvious Voldemort, when it came to their relationship. It led her down a train of thought that caused her heart to ache and her head to spin. 

She was nearly six paces away when he called out to her. “Baby, I could drown in your honey quicker than any other woman could even beguile me.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the new term of endearment, the lustful look in his eyes, or the genuine smile he was giving her, but her head down to her toes radiated with a special kind of warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting some FLUFF up in here.
> 
> Comments?


	34. In the Eye of the Storm

“Test of my patience; there’s things that we’ll never know.”  
-Harry Styles, Fine Line

Ember worked at Books Less Travelled four days a week. It was tranquil work that she thoroughly enjoyed. Restocking shelves, making complimentary tea for customers, speaking to people who had never heard the name Voldemort. It was the first time she could remember not being afraid of engaging in conversation. The past year had been walked along egg shells, even with Draco more often than not; so, recommending the small collection of books that she knew to guests and goofing off with co-workers was so entirely youthful that she finally felt balanced.

Max Wyatt was a twenty five year old that had just had his first child with his fiancée and needed a flexible but steady job to help pay the bills. He was a short fellow with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and the quickest wit and driest sarcasm she had ever found in anyone. And she spent the last year in the company of both Draco and Blaise.

Bianca Ravenfoot was a bookworm that was taking a gap year to find herself before starting university the next fall. She was tall and lean and had flowing honey blonde hair. She wore large glasses that his most of her face, but she was nice and honest and Ember quickly became friends with her.

Her boss, Astrid’s father, was nicknamed Wallace the Wizard because he was fascinatingly good at finding obscure books for customers. Someone could give the blandest broken version of a plot that they were looking for, and Wallace would know the name of the book, the year it was published, and the exact location it was in the shop. She had to admit, if she didn’t know that wizards actually existed, she would buy into the nickname too. 

Sometimes she could coax Draco into coming to work with her. He would generally stay out of the way; finding a corner to burrow in and take a random, or what she thought as random, book to read. He rarely ever finished a book, and placed them back in their respective spots when Ember was ready to depart. He got along with Max and Bianca and even Wallace the Wizard, but she had yet to convince him to join her in her work. Which in all honesty, was okay.

She would spend her mornings walking across the sleepy town, sometimes with a pre-caffeinated Draco and sometimes by herself. Her afternoons were spent with normalcy in the book shop. But her evenings were by far her favorite part of her day for they were entirely reserved for Draco.

If he hadn’t come with her to work, he would be waiting for her in the inn by the time she got home and have some idea of how they could spend the evening. Sometimes it was simply taking a walk by the river, sometimes it was staying in and watching movies on the telly and playing card games until they were deliriously sleep deprived. No matter what they did to occupy their time, Ember counted herself lucky. The dreary cloud that had always hovered over Draco since the moment she met him was dissipating marginally. 

He seemed happy. He smiled and joked more. Gone were the dark conversations that had ruled their relationship and in its place laughter and communication were embraced. They grew to places she didn’t even know existed. They knew the dark stuff, the heavy baggage had been laid bare most carelessly, so now they had nothing but time to discover the little things. 

The weeks passed and before they knew it, it was the beginnings of December. Both had done exactly what they said they wouldn’t; they had gotten comfortable in their sleepy little town of Saint-Sauveur. Their shoulders relaxed, minds at ease, and guards down. They hadn’t heard a stitch of news from the wizarding world and were all the more happy for it.

If Voldemort had succeeded in his annihilation of Harry there would be signs of his domination, even in the muggle news. Draco knew what to look for, and even a world away, they picked up the international journal every morning just to be sure that everything was how it should be.

The cigarettes were the perfect distraction for those lingering doubts still on the edge of Draco’s mind. He knew that it wasn’t particularly the best vice to jump to, but it was better than the alcohol. It calmed his nerves and still allowed him to keep his wits about him without driving him to steal liquor. There was just the small problem of acquiring them. 

Draco had wanted to use the imperious curse on the old man who owned the convenience shop down from their inn, but Ember forbade it. It was an unforgivable curse after all and who knew if they might still be traced; not to mention the fact that it was morally wrong. But neither of them were old enough to actually purchase the tobacco. Between the two of them, they settled on a little misdirection and slight-of-hand magic, that allowed them to swipe a whole carton from a bigger market when they took a trip to Montreal to visit some of its’ museums. Things were certainly more difficult with them not being citizens, not having proper documentation, and still being teenagers to boot (even though Draco was technically an adult), but both were clever enough to get around the restrictions. 

By the time Christmas rolled around, both of them could admit to themselves that the decision to leave everything behind had been without a doubt the right one. Even amidst the family oriented holiday, they didn’t allow themselves to be dragged into a game of what ifs. Instead they made conscious efforts to create traditions of their own.

When Ember came home with a three foot tree and a hopeful smile, Draco just shook his head and asked which corner of the room she wanted to display it. They spent the night haphazardly decorating it with cheap decorations and a little too much tinsel. The next day she came home from work to Draco casually biting off the head of a gingerbread man; one of the many he purchased from the bakery down the road. Two days before Christmas Eve, Ember begged for a haircut.

“I’ve never done it before!” Draco protested, entirely uncomfortable with the idea of being responsible for cutting her hair.

“You’ve seen it done!” She argued pleadingly, “It can’t be that hard of a spell.”

His lips formed a thin line as he ran his hands through her admittedly long hair. She grabbed his wrist affectionately, squeezing reassuringly. “I trust you.”

“I wouldn’t.” He mumbled unconvinced. She was so lovely and he didn’t want to be the reason to take an ounce of her beauty no matter what the context.

She sighed. The sigh she usually used when she was resigned that he wouldn’t budge. “Fine.” He drew out the word in faux exasperation. It was only hair, it would grow back.

She skipped into the bathroom, the only room in their residency that had a mirror, and waited patiently for him to follow. He had to avidly not over-dramatically drag his feet. 

Mirrors had not been his friend. The sight of his face made his skin crawl. It was something he couldn’t push past. His eyes were those of his fathers, his nose his mothers, and no matter what he did, or what Ember said; he could only see a monster. He wasn’t sure if it was because he couldn’t recognize himself or if it was because he could. He avoided his reflection as much as he could.

He pulled his wand out, and brought her hair gently so it laid long against her back; testing the wright in his palms. His eyes flicked up to see her watching him in the mirrored reflection. She gave him a patient grin as he continued to shift his hands through her brown locks.

“How short do you want it?” He murmured.

A shiver ran down her spine as his breath brushed the shell of her ear. The air ignited with something almost tangible that she couldn’t quite place. It made her stomach twist in knots, a warmth spread through her, her heart sprinting. 

“Shoulder length maybe?” She asked questioningly, nervous. “How short was it when I came to the manor?”

His hand stilled. “You don’t remember?” He asked hesitantly.

She lowered her eyes and shook her head softly, taking his fingers with her. Sometimes little things still slipped through the cracks, even from times where they knew she hadn’t been obliviated. They were easier to acknowledge than those memories that were permanently gone with no witnesses, but Draco knew that it bothered her. For how much they had reconnected, there were still places of her he couldn’t reach; things she just didn’t talk about.

He didn’t say anything, just comfortingly gathered her hair and threaded his wand between her neck and her hair, measuring to where it would sit just above her shoulders.   
“Capillus Conscidisti,” He whispered, sweeping the tip of his wand along the imaginary line he had placed. Her hair began to slice off and fall down in ringlets to the tiled floor.

She gasped, having not expected him to do it without a warning, and her eyes flew up to his reflection. He slid his wand back into his pocket and wrapped his arm around her torso. “There, just like when I met you.” He brushed her newly cut hair to one side of her neck, nuzzling his chin on her bare shoulder, and watched the dazed emotions cross her face.

Slowly, she reached up and grasped some of her hair, her face settling on unconcealed awe. She curled the strands behind her ear, trying to place herself in the reflection before her. Draco pressed his lips into the spot where her neck met her shoulder. She closed her eyes, sighing dreamily into his embrace. “Is it good, sweetheart?”

She reopened her eyes at his husky tone, to see his eyes watching her in the mirror. His lips were still on her skin, blazing everywhere they touched, but his eyes, oh how pretty they were, looking up at her from underneath his lashes.

“Mhmm,” She managed to breathe, unable to break the scathingly hot eye contact. He smirked, she felt it against her skin, and she melted even further. His devilish lips travelled lightly to the curve of her ear; his hot breath leaving a trail of goose flesh in their wake.

“Good,” He whispered right into her ear. This time Ember visibly shivered before twisting around in his arms, standing on her tip toes, and pressing a needy kiss onto his smirking lips. Immediately he pulled her flush against him before grasping her waist and smoothly lifting her to sit on the edge of the counter next to the sink. She moaned that sweet little moan of hers right into his mouth and he quickly placed himself in between her legs, chasing the taste of fresh lemons.

It was easy to turn her on. Everything was new to her and not in the same way that it was new to him. Draco knew more about the logistics of intimacy, whereas Ember had to rely purely on instinct. They were both thwarted, blindsided, by the intense feelings that followed such actions. Their actions that were once, months ago, clumsy and ill-practiced were now like second nature. A caress here, a taste there; predestined chemistry that weaved them together in a way neither of them had anticipated.

Their lips danced familiarly as his long fingers trailed underneath her sweater and over her elegant back. He grinned when he discovered that her skin was not barricaded by a bra. Somewhere along the weeks of their exile, she had become comfortable enough to lay around their room without a bra and he thoroughly appreciated it. Her hands, that were at his side, grabbed a fist full of his shirt and pulled him impossibly closer. He dove in, sliding his tongue along hers, moaning as she tenderly and timidly wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed.

He was becoming achingly hard fast and couldn’t resist grinding his member slowly against her inner thigh; anything to get an inch of relief. He broke from her lips, giving her a chance to breathe, and travelled his lips back down her neck leaving small heated kisses. He confidently pushed the collar of her sweater down and gently traced her collarbone before sucking the slim piece of skin between his lips. Ember gasped, clutching his shoulders. His other hand crossed from her back to around her stomach before bravely cupping her bare breast. She tensed slightly before relaxing as he gave her a tender squeeze and moved his lips back to hers. 

Eagerly she returned his affections, lips getting tangled and swollen. She felt perfect in his hands, body placid and warm. He nibbled on her bottom lip before shamelessly rutting back against her thigh. He could feel the heat coming from her center and wanted to fall to his knees and caress every hidden inch of her, but he restrained herself. He knew how these snogging sessions typically played out.

With his hand that wasn’t occupied with her breast, he grabbed the nape of her neck and angled her head back so that he could plunder her mouth more leisurely. His thumb brushed over her nipple, causing a soft gasp, and pebbling the skin immediately. He groaned, squeezing her tighter and looking for any type of friction on his throbbing member.

She drew from his lips hesitantly, but did not dissuade him from chasing after them with little pecks and nibbles. He shifted his hand away from her breast, as much as it pained him to do so, and returned it to her back, tugging her retreating from back into his chest. “Don’t shut down baby,” He whispered tenderly, catching her scared eyes with his. “Don’t shut me out. I know. Sweetheart, I know.” 

Her eyes darted back and forth between his. They had had awkward discussion about the more sexual aspect of their relationship. Ember was terrified of going much further and Draco completely understood her hesitance. He shamefully thought that if it had been anyone else, he would have been frustrated and lashing out, but it wasn’t anyone else. How could he be anything but understanding when those green eyes that he loved so much pleaded with him to understand; to not berate her for her own feelings? He was fine with just feeling her, hell he loved feeling her like this, but when she thought that they might be going too far, she would slam the draw bridge down faster than you could say lumos and completely shy away from him; physically and emotionally. That hurt; her abruptly disconnecting from him felt like a seared edge of a blade pressing against his chest.

Her magnetic eyes stared up at him for a long moment before she nodded slightly and leaned in to reconnect their lips, her hands sliding into his messy hair. He sighed into her mouth and hugged her to him as his lips tried to say what his words could not. Growing tired of leaning his head down to meet hers, he delicately grabbed the outside of her thighs and lifted her off the counter.

She squeaked, clamping her legs around his waist and effectively pressing her warm center closer to his member, causing him to break their kiss and let out a wanton moan. He carried her back to their bed.

Placing her gently on the sheets, he crawled on top of her, mindful to keep one knee between her legs as he kneeled over her. Their kisses grew less urgent and much more sensual. He pulled away from her lips to lift his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor. She whimpered, just as he returned to her lips, eagerly tracing along the curves and dips of his chest and torso.

Draco experimentally pressed his knee into the apex of her thighs. Her reaction was instantaneous; limbs froze and the kiss was broken with her sharp intake. Getting no outward resistance, Draco shifted his knee again, giving her just enough friction to make her toes want to curl. “Does that feel good baby?” He breathed.

She cried softly her approval and wiggled beneath him; anything to get that delicious friction. He affectionately brushed her hair away from her face, just enough of a break for her to open her lust blown eyes to look up at him. He smiled down at her before slowly lowering himself so that his naked chest was pressed up against her sweater, his body gently caging her in. 

He could feel her nipples straining to meet him and groaned at the sensation, his member giving a little jump. He brushed his nose against her, sensually rolling his knee back into her center. She gasped again, her hot breath washing over him and he hummed. 

Kissing him desperately, capturing his lips with her own slightly clumsy movements, her hips began to instinctually seek out his knee to the point where he didn’t have to move any further. She took her pleasure herself and he drank the noises from her lips in grateful gulps. She tugged at his hair and he groaned loudly against her neck.

Quickly, that he hadn’t even noticed the switch going off, she stopped her movement and pulled away from his embrace. He backed away from her neck, looking down at her to see green orbs shining up at him with unshed tears. “It’s too much.” She whimpered, lips that were once trembling in delight suddenly shuddering in fear.

Swiftly he removed his knee from her and abandoned her chest, to not overwhelm her, but began to rub her cheek to calm her down. “Okay.” He whispered back, helplessly watching as embarrassment crept over her features.

“I’m sorry,” She croaked out, the emotion clinging in her throat.

He shook his head and shoved his face into the crook of her neck, curling around her tightly, reassuringly; expertly angling his hips away from her body. “Em, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

He knew that she was scared, and, though he hated to think about it, but there might be a very valid reason to why she was so scared. Something that her body remembered but her mind had forgotten. Trauma came in all shapes and it would come as no surprise if something had happened to her that caused her body to fear any kind of pleasure. 

He knew that every time they started something that it would end up with him having blue balls, but it was worth it. It was worth seeing her blissed out and hearing those tiny noises he adored; becoming so drenched in her scent that it followed him around for days. Every time they got a little closer to the end goal. They would get there one day, and he didn’t want her to be afraid when they did.

She closed her eyes tightly at his words and allowed him to cuddle her into him.

~

Christmas day was passed without any special grandeur. Sleeping in late, enjoying warm cups of tea in front of the window where little tufts of snow covered the town. It was quiet and simplistic.

When their tea was nearly done, Ember rushed to grab the presents underneath the small tree. They had decided to exchange presents with each other this year, where they hadn’t the year before, under the agreement that it was only one. They didn’t need more than each other and at least the guise of safety. Instead of traditional wrapping paper, they had purchased only one pack of red tissue paper. She returned to him by the window and handed him his present with a smile and pink tinged cheeks.

He made no move to unwrap the gift, instead ushering her to open hers first. Her cheeks flamed more underneath his attention and she delicately began to unwrap the thin paper. Inside was a box that was small enough to fit perfectly on her palm. It was made of polished cherry wood that shined in the light. The top was decorated with a painted portrait of a pond not entirely unlike the pond they had spent that hot summer day in. A single white swan was placed in the pond, igniting a spark of recognition in Ember’s mind, some sort of symbolism that she couldn’t fully grasp, but knew that she should recognize. 

Her fingers slowly caressed the beautiful scene before tracing over to the edge and unlatching the hinge that opened the box. Twinkling music began to play in a soft melody and a sterling silver ballerina began to slowly twirl.

“It’s a music box.” He explained softly. “But it can also hold your bracelet so that it doesn’t get lost in the bottom of the bag anymore.” The pearl bracelet his mother had given her the Christmas before was the only piece of jewelry she had brought from the manor, more for sentimental reasons than any other, but it was too extravagant to wear all the time and she was afraid that somewhere along the way it would get lost.

She was touched. It was pretty, simple, and meaningful; and by far the best gift she had ever been given. “I love it. Thank you.”

He admired her marveling at the music box a moment longer before beginning to unwrap the present sitting in his lap. The paper pushed aside to reveal a leather wrapped edition of Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Puzzled, his jaw unhinged slightly and he gazed up at her in question.

She shrugged with a cute smile. “I noticed that was the book you picked up at the store more than any others. You must have read it at least three times by now.” Her lip twitched.

He smiled as he felt the embedded ridges of the lettering of the title. It had been his favorite muggle book he had come across. The story detailed the juxtaposition of wealth and privilege that he was only beginning to discover mixed with longing, belonging, and miscommunications. It was easy for him to relate to.

~

New Years passed without heavy celebration as well. Suddenly it was 1998 and they had successfully spent five months on the run. The snow still sparkled, the world kept turning, and they relaxed further into the comfort of each other. All those times Ember spent dreaming about a different life, thinking that was all it was; plans of what could have been, had manifested just as she had imagined. She had friends, a job, a happy roof over her head, and a husband to share it with. Her heart was full, but in the back of her mind was always the idea that it could be taken.

Draco had asked her on whim if she wanted to get tattoos. It was random, as he generally asked for nothing, and she wondered what had been turning in his head to fall on such an idea. Little did she know that it was drawn from the same place her curiosity about the matters came from. Max had a working sleeve on his right arm that was artistically appealing, and both of them had been admiring it for weeks.

They already had two more than permanent tattoos before, both unwillingly. It would be a nice change to decorate their skin with whatever they decided. And so, she agreed. It wasn’t possible that the pain would be worse than the initiation they had to go through.

It was exciting once Ember remembered the stigmatism behind them. In muggle culture, and wizarding, it was looked at to be rebellious and low to mark your skin permanently. But they were teenagers that had just rebelled, and this seemed like something a normal teen would do.

When they entered the studio on January first, both having an idea of what they wanted, Ember’s hand gripped tightly onto Draco’s. The shop keepers looked up from behind the front counter with intense eyes. They were burly men in their thirties; an intimidating sort with more ink than plain skin and piercings where Ember didn’t know piercings could go. She clammed up instantly, shying closer to Draco then she had in months.

The appointment was brief, Draco handed over the Slytherin patch he had kept and explained to Gary what he wanted. While Gary was working on a work-up sketch, Henry quickly managed to gather an image of what Ember wanted and asked if he could free-draw it. She had little reason to refuse, and agreed easily enough.

Henry led the two teenagers back into a sterilized room after barely lifting a brow over the lack of identification. It wouldn’t have mattered if he had, Draco was prepared to convince them if needed.

Ember sat nervously on the long adjustable bench, Draco standing supportingly next to her holding her hand. They both knew that whatever pain that came from the needle would be nothing compared to the pain of the past, but they also both knew that Ember was still uncomfortable around other men, so Draco holding her hand was more for her comfort than anything else.

Henry obviously noticed Ember’s discomfort but assumed it was more about the process of getting her first tattoo than it had anything to do with him. He gently grabbed her arm, facing it forearm up and swiped a cleansing, slightly cold, cloth over her skin. She tightened her grip on Draco.

“So why Forget-Me-Nots?” Henry asked conversationally after pointing just underneath the bend of her elbow and clarifying the correct placement she wanted. 

Ember swallowed, trying to keep her arm steady even though he hadn’t even brought out the needle yet. “Um, I have memory issues and they symbolize protection and luck. Drew’s mother also has this mesmerizing garden with almost every flower imaginable.”

Draco gaped at her, not prepared for her to equivocate this seemingly permanent tattoo back to his mother. It caused his heart to throb and he squeezed her hand twice.  
Henry glanced up at them as he finished prepping the needle. “You two are a couple then?” He asked casually.

“Married actually.” Draco said proudly, the hint of a smirk angling his lips.

“Young love birds then, aye?”

“Something like that.” Draco answered, both he and Ember sharing a secret look. It was nice to finally acknowledge to other people that they were married. It had been a secret last year with the only true exception being Blaise.

“Alright darling, this might sting a bit.” Henry mumbled as he held the top of her forearm with one hand, mostly to steady the canvas, and brought the buzzing needle to her skin.

Only a tiny gasp escaped her at the slight pain that sizzled up her arm, her grip tightening on Draco, but otherwise she did not complain. 

“I’m assuming you know the story behind the forget-me-nots?” Henry asked after a moment.

Ember nodded (mostly because she had looked it up), but Draco was stumped. He gazed down at Ember before looking back at Henry. “No, what is it?”

Henry shifted back, switching the black ink for cerulean blue. “The proper name of the flower is Myosotis. It gets the name forget-me-not from Christian lore.” He buzzed it again before leaning back down to color in the petals. “It’s said that in the Garden of Eden, God saw a blue flower and asked it its name. The flower was shy and admitted that he had forgotten his name, so God renamed it forget-me-not so that neither Him nor the flower would forget its name.”

Draco squeezed the hand he was holding to his chest. It made perfect sense why Ember would want that reminder on her skin. She had only told him that she wanted a flower and he had brushed it off as her being delicate and liking flowers. He never imagined that it would have such a strong connection to her own story that she herself had forgotten countless times. He was so overcome by the tale that he leaned down and kissed her temple, just as Henry was completing the final finishing touches.

He removed the needle and cleaned up the edges before rolling back in his chair. “There we go darling. Do we like it?”

She stared down at her arm, where a thin stem traveled into three small blue Myosotis petals, the color only slightly darker than Draco’s eyes. It was simple and laid over the slightly distorted skin where the dark mark had once lain. “Yes, thank you.”

“No problem. Now, we’ll just get you wrapped up and Gary should be ready for you.” He added, glancing up at Draco.

Draco’s session took longer and was far more awkward than Ember’s. He had debated on getting the Malfoy crest etched into his back but he wasn’t sure that he wanted the association. The pride of the Malfoy name never completely left him but it was nestled in a confusing web of emotions that he didn’t have the energy to untangle. So, he settled on the snake of Slytherin house on his right shoulder blade.

He had to lay on his stomach with his shirt off on the bench provided. It was uncomfortable to be in a room with two, Henry had decided to come with them, grown men, half naked. Ember tried to contain her amusement and his discomfort but the look he shot her told her she wasn’t doing a very good job of it. She sat in a chair at his head staring with interest up at the walls littered with other tattoo ideas.

Gary wasn’t as talkative as Henry and didn’t ask questions when it came to the silver and green snake. They had gambled on the thought that tattoo artists got unusual requests more often than not, and neither of their requests were truly unusual. The pain from the needle carving into his skin felt cathartic to Draco, and he only gritted his teeth once when the needle trailed deep into the bone. Ember patiently rubbed comforting circles into the back of his hand, looking over his shoulder to see the progress of the palm sized snake.

When it was finished, Draco was able to look at the finished product in a floor length mirror. He stared at it for a long time with a blank face, unconsciously reaching for the Malfoy ring resting against his chest and gripping it tightly.


	35. The Rise and Fall of Tension

“Falling from high places, falling through lost spaces. Now that we’re lonely, now that there’s nowhere to go. Watching from both sides these clock towers burning up. I lost my time here. I lost my patience with it all.”  
-Ben Howard, The Wolves

“Ember I swear, you can’t honestly be considering this!” Draco shouted brazenly. His shoulders were bunched together like a panther about to pounce, his teeth bared, eyes cold liked hardened marble.

“It would only be for a night!” She argued.

Bianca had invited Ember to accompany her to a book signing in Montreal the following weekend. 

Draco stared scathingly at her, stubbing out his cigarette angrily in the ash tray she bought him the week before. He stood by the open window with the top of his shirt unbuttoned. His habit had generally become an unresolved issue that winter. Every time he needed the relief of nicotine, Ember would freeze, even more than usual, as the Canadian wind blew into their room. He seemed to be immune, and this time it was almost as if he brought the cold with him.

“The answers no.” He said bluntly with a bitterness most unbecoming. “Have you forgotten that we are in exile and on the run? We can’t just go off roaming because we want to.”

She flinched slightly, it wasn’t exactly nice to accuse her of forgetfulness. Even if it was an overdramatic hyperbole brought into the heat of an argument, she didn’t appreciate it. Huffing, she lowered her own voice, “Are you arguing with because I’m going to the city or because you weren’t invited?”

His eyes narrowed, pointing a deliberate finger at her. His reasons had absolutely nothing to due to the fact that he hadn’t been invited and laid with the ache that she would want to separate from him when they were still in hiding. “You know that it’s insane to separate, even if it’s only for one night. I don’t even like you walking across town to work in that damn bookshop!”

Her stance became accusing as much as his had become defensive. “Is that why you come with me three days out of the week? Why can’t you just work for Wallace too?” She shook her head abstrusely. “Why do you have to be so sullen and complicated? We left your world so that we might have a chance to have a life in this one, not to stay boarded up in this damn surrogate of the manor.”

He slammed the window in aggravation. It bounced off the hinges and swung back open, narrowly hitting him in the back of the head. “Fuck Em! Why did I even fucking come with you if you were just going to blatantly ignore all of our problems. They still exist even if you brushed them under the rug. You can’t just place them out of sight out of mind. It doesn’t work that way.”

She frowned, but was still invigorated with anger. “So you wish you stayed with them and rotted the rest of your short life away drinking and avoiding mirrors? Waiting to be punished, no matter the crime; waiting to be let out of your cage?”

Both, in the heat of the argument, ignored that their conversation was blurring over lines and coalescing all their problems into one dangerous clump, leading to the damaging exclamation:

“Yeah, sometimes I do!”

The words, so simply stated with no remorse, punctured her like a thousand little cuts. Those doubts that had always lingered had just been given a voice, underlining the facts and causing a strong swirl of guilt to clutch at her heart. 

She plucked her coat off the bed, all the anger melted away into solidifying ice. “If this is so horrible for you then maybe you should go back.” She whispered quietly, without meeting his softening eyes, and left the inn.

He stared at the space she left for a long moment. With a string of curses, he fished for another cigarette and lit it in front of the window with a sigh. As a huddled figure amongst the snow, he saw her walk down the lane with her head bowed.

~

The walk to work was usually spent with shallow reflection, but that day it was filled with doubt and fear. Maybe in a way it was selfish to think that she could take a trip without him. It would only be a handful of hours, but a lot could happen in a few hours. But in the same breath, they couldn’t be expected to stay holed up for the rest of their lives.

It was frustrating that he hadn’t made any attempts to make this life they carved out for themselves his own. He still sat in that corner wallowing with another clutched vice, just drifting day to day. Ember knew, humans weren’t meant to pass days without any type of purpose, and perhaps that was the issue. He had gone from having the heaviest purpose to having nothing in little short than a year. He had turned his back on everything he knew to follow her into the ambiguous abyss. She thought that she had made an convincing argument before they had left the manor, but maybe it was something she never should have asked in the first place.

She regretted arguing with him as soon as her feet had hit the pavement. She didn’t want him to leave, but she had the terrible thought that when she left work this evening she would be returning to an empty inn. Her chest ached as her feet shuffled further and further away from him. It was late April and the weather was not being kind. Was she blinking away tears or the flurries of snow? 

I should give him more credit, she thought as she saw the crooked awning of the bookshop. He had come so far and it would be implausible that he would leave without her. When she got back this evening they would talk and everything would be fine. 

The bell dinged above her when she entered the store the same as any other day. She hung up her coat on the rack by the door and pitter pattered against the welcome mat to dust the snow off her shoes.

“Afternoon Em!” Max shouted from the back corner.

She hadn’t necessarily approved of the others claiming the nickname Draco gave her for themselves. She hadn’t argued it, but somehow today it felt different and she really wished that Max would just leave her be. She mumbled a greeting and moved to the multiple stacks of books that needed to be sorted that had been waiting for her all week.

Having fallen into a numb consciousness, she mechanically shifted through her tasks and barely felt any better by the time it was to leave. The time had left her to understand where Draco was coming from. In the grand scheme of things, she knew that he was still holding on to his old life. It had only been nine months and it was wrong to expect him to have completely accepted this change in their story. She couldn’t assume that he would be able to cut off limbs only to immediately grow new ones.

She waved goodnight to Wallace “the Wizard” Nordmarke and began to make the trek home through the slushy snow. She would apologize to him for her rash decisions and harsh tone that morning and he would forgive her. They would laugh about it later, sharing bad Chinese food and watching a melodrama on the telly. That was, if he hadn’t taken her words to heart and left while she was gone.

Her stomach turned at the possibilities she could be walking into and debated on procrastinating and taking the long way back to the inn. But she knew that pain was better if it was ripped off like a bandage; one fell swoop and then nothing was left but living with the consequences.

She was still mulling over everything when she heard multiple fearful gasps just up ahead. The way her mind was now wired, with paranoia being the default, she stopped at the noise and looked up towards where the sound had originated from.

It took her a moment, stopped there in the middle of the road huddled into her coat, to scan the crowd and locate the confrontation. The snow had long stopped its descent from the sky but the wind was biting at her lashes and making it hard to see even close distances, but saw him she did. 

The figure stood opposing, with no regard to concealment, in front of the post office. The collar of his long coat was brought up to his chin, seemingly trying to obscure the fuzzy hair clumped at his jaw. He twirled slowly, his dark eyes scanning the area. The horrified gasps had undoubtedly been muggles catching a glance at the strange disfigurement of Fenrir Greyback.

Ember froze, unbridled fear seeping through her. Was this purely coincidental or was he avidly trying to find them, and if so, how? The way he was pivoting with his nose pointed just slightly to the air pointed to the fact that, yes, he was on the hunt. 

He hadn’t spotted her yet, but he would soon enough if she didn’t move. Her hands twitched at her side and suddenly the biting cold and argument of the morning were not so important. It took her far longer than it should have to realize that she could apparate and ignore the sudden blinding problem in front of her.

As nonchalantly as possible, she walked into the closest alley behind the butcher, keeping her head angled to the ground. Once she was deep enough that no muggles would see her and Greyback would hopefully not hear her, she turned on the spot.

In her haste to get away from the werewolf rather than apparating to the inn, she apparated directly to Draco who inconveniently was in the midst of stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist. The loud cracking in the bathroom made him jump, clutching tightly to the towel, and almost slipping on the tile.

“Ember, what the fuck?!” He shouted. A half-minute later, it registered that she had in fact apparated into the bathroom and not simply walked through the door. Suddenly he took in her appearance; her cheeks still wind-blown, eyes drastically wide, and fingers trembling slightly as she held them close to her chest.

All else fell to the background, and his shoulders tensed. “What is it?”

She swallowed thickly, not even being able to appreciate the delicious sight of him. “I saw Greyback.”

There was a distinct pause, all air sucked from the room, before he blinked at her and hissed, “What?”

“I saw him right in front of the post office on the way back. He was sniffing around the street. We need to leave, now.” She stuttered out.

The adrenaline spiked and Draco gulped. He brushed back his still wet hair away from his eyes with a ghostly expression. “Alright, you pack, I’ll get changed, and we’ll go. Three minutes tops!”

She bobbed her head reaching behind her for the door knob and thrusting it open. Running across the room, she drew the curtains closed, dashed for the neglected backpack and placed it open on the bed. She tossed open the drawers and thrust clothes in the bag before hastily looked for Draco’s wand. It was sitting on the top of the television. She grabbed it quickly and waved it abruptly, allowing all of their possessions to fly from their hiding spots and into the magically never-ending bag.

Once all flying objects had been deposited into the bag, she synched it closed and clasped it shut before tossing it on her back. In the time left to her, she straightened up the room just enough to make sure that they wouldn’t be leaving anything important behind.

Draco exited the bathroom dressed clumsily in trousers and a grey sweater. He fumbled with his shoes and tossed on his leather coat. He reached for his wand and she handed it over easily. She gave one last look to their once safe haven wistfully before grabbing Draco’s hand and turning on the spot.

Only this time when she apparated, it wasn’t with the clearest of heads and she unfortunately travelled them right back into the alley behind the butcher from whence she had just came. The crack seemed louder this time in the dark corner of the nearly deserted streets, and before she could think to re-apparate, she felt a disgusting claw grasp her shoulder.

She turned with a uncontrollable gasp, dropping Draco’s hand in the process. The black eyes of Greyback twinkled at her in glee, his mouth wide open in a grin, teeth-barred in their ugly yellowed fanged glory. “The two of you have cause quite the stir.” He rumbled from deep in his chest.

Draco gaped, horrified, at Ember caught in his clutches and instinctually wiped out his wand and shouted, “Stupefy!”

Greyback’s body shot backwards, taking a clump of Ember’s hair with him. She squeaked and turned back around to see Draco with his wand still pointed in her direction. She met his eyes before running for the street. If they could get out to the muggles they might have a better chance at losing him before re-apparating. Draco shot another curse and the recuperating Greyback blocked it with a menacing grimace. He sent another one, red light flashing from his wand.

Draco tried blocking it, attempted to dodge it, but failed. The curse hit his arm at an awkward angle and sent waves of agony curling through the muscles of his bicep. He hunched over, grabbing at his arm, flinging a halfhearted curse back at the half-man.

“Draco!” Ember shouted, begging him to follow.

He began to walk backwards, shooting curse after curse and managing to block the ones Greyback sent their way. Finally, he smashed the werewolf into the brick wall and sprinted to Ember, who had her hand reaching out for him.

The second his knuckles curled around hers, she apparated them away. 

~

A loud crack, like muffled thunder, sounded over a dark empty field before two bodies crashed to their feet out of thin air. The only light was that of twinkling lanterns in the distance and the moon which was almost full. The moment they landed, Draco tore his hand away from hers and paced a good distance away from her.

“What the hell was that?” His tone was short, like the line of unsteady dynamite just waiting to explode.

Ember felt drained, standing damp and cold in the middle of the dark after confronting that which they had always feared. “I don’t know. I must have panicked and thought of the alley in the last second.”

He roared up at the sky, griping just under his shoulder where the spell had hit him. Ember took a step forward, reaching out for him. “Here let me help with that.”

“No!” He seethed, glaring down at her. “I think you’ve done enough today.”

She flinched, the terror she had felt all day seizing her heart. “I’m sorry.” She said weakly. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Her breaths came in short, as she felt claustrophobic in her own skin, her words nearing hysteric. “I didn’t know Greyback had found us! I didn’t mean to apparate us back to him! I didn’t mean to fight with you! I’m sorry!”

He closed his eyes. With the pain in his arm, the anxiety of their narrow escape, and the fact that he had been pacing himself into the ground all day after their fight, all he could do was let out an aggravated breath through his nose. “Ember, let’s just find somewhere to stay tonight. Bloody hell, let’s just find wherever the fuck we are.”

His tone left nothing to be desired. He was tired, upset, and angry and if she had been more secure in her thoughts, or had just been paying attention, she would have known to have dropped the subject. And yet, the hysteria and claustrophobia had fused together with her nervous habit of rambling. Only this time, Draco didn’t find it so attractive.

“I’m sorry! I-I fucked up okay? I shouldn’t have made such a big deal about Montreal. I get it, it was a stupid idea. I just wanted to be normal. We were doing so well.”

His jaw clenched. “Yeah, well if tonight has taught us anything, it’s that we weren’t really doing that well were we?” He bit out sarcastically.

Finally taking the hint at his tone, she backed off frowning and drew in on herself, managing to contain a whimper. He had never been this angry with her, around her sure, but never with her. He gave her one last look before turning around and stomping off towards the lights in the distance. She waited a moment, sucking back her tears, and slowly followed after him.

When they finally breached the town, underneath the street lights, it was deserted. Only a few stragglers were roaming the streets and that’s when they realized that it was much later than nine o’clock at night. Draco looked around them, scanning the windows of the shops. The colors red, white, and green surrounded them. 

He turned back to look at her. “We’re in Italy?” He asked incredulously.

She bit her lip, looking around them, and shrugged.

He rolled his eyes and turned back around. “Let’s find a hotel.”

They walked a few more paces before she spoke up meekly, “But how are we going to pay? We only have Canadian dollars.”

“We’re fucking wizards. I’m not dealing with stupid muggle societal expectations.”

She wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but she had a feeling it was going to be illegal and morally ambiguous.

About a half mile from where they had landed, Draco found a hotel and trailed around the building to the back door that was conveniently unlocked. He wrenched the door open, holding his injured arm close to his body, and stepped in stealthily. Ember followed his lead.

They found the stairs and crept up a few flights before managing to find a hallway with a maids cart sitting unattended. Draco kept his wand steadily at his side, glancing to make sure that no one was in the hallway before making a beeline to the cart. He rummaged around the bottles of soap, the mints, and the towels before finding the clipboard he was looking for.

“What are you doing?” Ember whispered, entirely confused at his antics.

He was flipping through the pages. “I’m trying to see what rooms are occupied and which ones are vacant.” He hissed back.

Just then, the sound of a door opening down the hallway sounded. Both of them ducked behind the cart. Draco handed her the clipboard, while he carefully glanced around their hiding spot with his wand at the ready.

Ember silently looked over the papers but couldn’t understand anything because it was all in Italian. It took her a minute but she realized that the words were close enough to the French that she remembered and was able to decipher enough of the words in correlation to the room numbers. 

Draco watched closely as an old man stepped out into the hallway, in nothing but underwear and a singlet; his portly belly hanging out. He held back his gags as the man ventured to the far side of the corridor and walked through a door labelled Ghiaccio.

He glanced over his shoulder at her quickly before resuming his eye contact on the door leading to the ice cupboard. “Did you find a room?”

Ember gripped the clipboard tightly. “Um, 314- no, no wait- 319.”

He gave her an unconvinced look, but shifted his eyes to the room numbers around him; 400s. “Alright, back to the stairwell. Go!”

They ran hunched back to the door to the stairs, Draco carefully keeping an eye on the opposing door until he slipped through. They quickly streamed up the stairs a level and stepped through into the corridor, grateful that it was empty.

Slowly they walked down the hallway, Draco refusing to sheath his wand. They passed room after room; 308, 310, 315, until finally the came to 319. Both gave another eye sweep of the hallway before he lifted his wand and whispered, “Alohomora.” They waited with bated breath as the keycard machine slowly turned green and clicked to allow them to enter.

He opened the door, his injured shoulder screaming at him, and slowly braced his uninjured shoulder to keep the door open. Keeping his wand ahead of him, he entered slyly making sure they didn’t stumble upon any unwelcomed occupants.

They both sighed when there was nothing out of the ordinary. The sheet still tucked in, not a personal affect anywhere. Ember shut the door behind them and deadbolted it before brushing past Draco and drawing the curtains closed. Draco held up his wand and casted muffliato before sitting down on the edge of the bed grimacing.   
They were as safe as they were going to be tonight.

Ember shrugged off the backpack and let it fall to the floor before hesitantly stepping towards Draco. “Please, let me help you.”

He breathed in deeply with his teeth clenched together in pain, simultaneously wishing that she was there and not there. “Don’t touch me.”

She recoiled. He was stressed and angry. Maybe after he slept and cooled off he would let her help him. So she sat down in the chair across from him and watched him struggle as he reached his hand underneath his coat and sweater and placed his fingers over the wound.

They remained like that for an immeasurable amount of time. Nothing but the sound of their breaths and the occasional grunt from Draco. It had to be nearing dawn when Ember dared to speak again. “Maybe you should go back.”

He shook his foggy head. “What are you talking about?” Go back to Canada? As if Greyback wasn’t still lingering around over there.

She looked at their feet and whispered, “Maybe you should go back to the manor. I never should have dragged you into coming with me. All you’ve been is miserable and at least then you wouldn’t have to pretend so be something you’re not.”

His heart stilled at her defeated tone. “I’m not going back to the manor and leaving you here alone.” 

“Why not? Why did you even come in the first place? You could have stayed, you could have gone off on your own. Why did you follow me, as if I knew anything?”

He finally looked to her, surprised to see her eyes already watching him. “Why?” He asked incredulously. “What kind of question is that? Especially to ask nine months after the fact.”

She didn’t rise to his bait and instead remained as calm as she was able. The whole day had been working up to this, and she wanted to get it out of the way. “Why?”

“Why?” He frustratingly hissed. “Because I bloody love you. I wasn’t going to let you go all runaway on your own.” He huffed, spitefully. “I mean why do you think I would leave literally everything I know behind? Because I like you a lot? No, because on top of everything else, I wouldn’t have been able to live not knowing where you were.”

She gaped at him, face pale and eyes terrified.

He gulped, his arm momentarily forgotten. He hadn’t meant for the words to come out like that. He hadn’t meant to tell her in a fit of agitated rage, but surely she knew. They had both said it before in so many words, yet she looked at him as if she didn’t understand.

“I-I don’t,” She stuttered out. He took a sharp intake of breath, not prepared for the end of that sentence. “Understand. How?”

His brows wrinkled together. “I don’t know how, it just happens.”

“No.” She said unreservedly. “How could you love me? No one’s ever loved me before.” Her green eyes were gleaming with unshed tears, her face devastatingly broken.

It had occurred to him long ago that no one had ever loved her. He hadn’t anticipated that it would become a bridge they needed to cross. She looked at him as if she had barely ever heard the word spoke aloud, and perhaps she hadn’t. She seemed to shrink underneath his gaze, her eyes confused- fragile, that whatever anger he was still clinging to faded into the background and suddenly this was the most important thing.

“How could I not love you?” He said softly.

Ember’s heart was racing and she felt her fight or flight response kick in, but she couldn’t understand why. All anger was erased from his face and he looked at her tenderly. Her mind couldn’t wrap around the fact that he loved her. She knew that he cared about her, he wouldn’t have put up with her or done half the things for her if he hadn’t, but to love her? Love always seemed like it would be an extraordinary exception, not the rule; especially when all the cards had been stacked against them. She hadn’t seen it, or heard it, and she wasn’t even sure if what she felt for him was love because she had no true definition for it.

“I’m sorry. I’m just confused.” She explained dumbly.

His heart felt sad. Not because she hadn’t confessed the words back to him, but because she didn’t know what love was. It only reminded him of how tragic her story had been and the lasting effects of her upbringing. Every time he thought they were breaking away from her imbedded issues, something like this happened and he was reminded of the lasting consequences.

He tried to reach across the chasm between them and hold her hand to help reassure her, but he winced as his arm flared back to attention. Her eyes refocused and her frown intensified. “Will you please let me help you?”

He nodded his head softly.

She moved to sit beside him and helped him remove his coat and sweater gently. Just under his shoulder on his bicep was a nasty bruise with red splotches of blood brought up to the surface in the beginnings of an ugly rash. Slowly, she touched his shoulder to have him quickly hiss and flinch away. She whispered an apology before slowly placing her palm back on the injury. Taking a deep breath, she focused her energy on healing his infliction. The soft familiar glow lit up her palms and they watched at the severe bruising disappeared.

His body relaxed in her hands, the outward tension leaving his shoulders. He rest his forehead on hers as she retracted her miracle patronus and whispered softly, “Thank you.”

“I really am sorry about the Montreal thing. You were right. I knew you were right, everything was just feeling easy and safe and I got caught up in it.”

He sighed, brushing his nose against hers. “I know. It’s okay.”

They stared in each other’s eyes for a long while, a million things said between them. Slowly he captured her lips with a soft kiss. 

She eagerly returned his passion and began to run her hands over the expanse of his chest before wrapping them around his neck. He licked into her mouth, desperate to get a taste of lemon. Quickly he removed her coat, nearly ripping it off her shoulders and wound his hand underneath her sweater, touching her soft, still cold, skin and urging her body closer to his.

Sighing into his mouth, she twisted his tongue with hers. The room was getting to be too hot and she felt like she couldn’t get close enough to him. He slowly began to bunch up the back of her sweater until it was lifted just underneath her bra clasp and he tugged. She separated their lips with ragged breaths and gazed into his blue eyes, finding nothing but adoration and longing. She let him take off the offending garment. It got caught on her elbow and they both airily laughed at the sheer awkwardness, before throwing it somewhere to be forgotten on the floor.

He attacked her lips again, grabbing her waist and pulling her into his lap. She gasped when she felt his hard member poking through his trousers and couldn’t help but notice the strange wetness pool into her panties at the feeling.

He groaned maneuvering her hips in circles around his aching cock and moaned into her mouth. She squeezed his shoulders tighter and instinctually began to gyrate her hips on her own.

Humming into her mouth, he lifted his hips and turned them over on the bed so that she was laying beneath him. He stood up from her taking in her reddening cheeks and swollen lips; the delicate rise and fall of her chest. He licked his lips unconsciously before leaning down and trailing them across her collarbones. Her hands found his hair and began to tug lightly as she felt a wave of desire crash over her senses. He moaned against her silky skin and it was the most attractive sound she had ever heard. 

His thumb began to work its’ way underneath the clasp of her bra and he leaned back, releasing her skin from his lips, to look at her face. “Is this okay?” He whispered seriously, hinting at going further than she had ever allowed.

Ever so hesitantly, she nodded her head. He gave her a true smile before pecking her lips and trying his best to work the clasp. He stumbled, unable to correctly maneuver the little wires to unleash his greatest desire and Ember giggled lightly as an extremely concentrated expression contorted his features. Taunted by her playful giggles, he brought her body up with his until they were sitting and she was pressed tight to his chest. Finally, with a better visual, and a better angle, the clasp budged and snapped apart.

He gently laid her back down against the duvet and leaned back. He looked at her eyes once more for confirmation before slowly taking her bra with him, revealing her pale lush skin and dusty pink nipples that pebbled under his gaze.

“Fuck.” He whispered haughtily. His eyes hungrily admired her before he leaned in and cupped one of her perfect breasts, feeling the weight of it, kneading it gently. Ember whimpered and his eyes flitted up to hers as they slipped shut. He watched her face bliss out and intently took a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his teeth, all the while keeping his eyes on her face. Her response was instantaneous. She moaned, clutching the back of his neck with one hand and her fingers grasping a chunk of his hair with the other. He drunk in her sounds and switched over to show equal attention to her right breast.

“Draco,” She sighed deeply, his name falling off her lips in a heavenly caress. “Please.” She pleaded, her hips lifting off the mattress.

Reluctantly, he pulled back from her chest and brushed some of her hair away from her face. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” She said wantonly. Her eyes went wide as she stared at his grinning face above hers. His blue eyes magnetic, pupils blown as wide as she had ever seen them. “I-I want-”  
He rubbed her arm soothingly. “What do you want baby?”

She puffed out a frustrated breath, unable to voice her desire. “More.” She whispered up to him as if it was a secret, or a sin.

He leaned in closer to her face. “Say that again?” He teased.

She whined at his mischievous tone, his trademark smirk curling the corner of his lip. “More,” She whined out, thrusting her hips up to meet his.

“Ohhh, more.” He said causally as he pulled himself off of her. And fuck if looking at her bare chested nearly writhing on the bed beneath him wasn’t about to have him busting his nut with his pants still on.

He softly laid his hand on her belly, thumb caressing the skin above the waistband of her jeans. “You sure about this Em?”

She looked at him sweetly, placing her hand over his on her stomach and nodding her head.

He gave her a little grin and moved his hands to unbutton her jeans. He slide the zipper down and gripped the waistband tightly before tugging them down her legs. She helped shimmy out of them and soon they were discarded to the floor as well.

Draco groaned, deep and guttural in his throat. After months of her beautiful teasing legs taunting him in skirts, in tight pants, he finally got the opportunity to worship and caress them as they deserved. He started at her calves, trailing his lips over every curve and sucking at the skin of her inner thigh. He could feel the heat radiating from her core and his mouth salivated. He paid equal attention to the other leg, spending extra time to sculpt the curves of her luscious legs with his hands. Her whines were escalating, her skin turning into jello beneath his ministrations, and he grinned wickedly into her thigh before leaning back to see her face.

He rubbed her thighs in continuous comforting motions. “More?” He questioned tantalizingly.

She let out a loud whine, words having been completely lost, and tossed her head back against the covers.

He carefully slid his index fingers into the top of her delightfully green panties and slowly removed them down her creamy legs.

She shivered at the rush of cold air and felt entirely exposed even though he could see nothing more than a soft patch of dark curls. Her whimpers boarded on fear and Draco laid his body on top of hers, nuzzling his face into the space between her shoulder and neck, reviling in the skin to skin contact of their chests, her taunt nipples brushing against his pecs, and placed soft devoted kisses to her skin. He had thought of this moment a lot in his darkest daydreams and he always knew that she was going to need a lot of patience and reassurance. 

“It’s okay sweetheart.” He murmured lovingly against her throat. She shivered as his voice and chest vibrated into her own. “Do you trust me?” She nodded, hands coming up to rest lightly beneath his shoulder blades. “I just want to make you feel good baby.” Each sentence was punctuated with a kiss. “You’re so beautiful,” One hand trailed up her side to rest at the top of her chest. “But if you want to stop, we’ll stop, I promise.”

She shook her head, one hand coming up to grip the small hairs at the nape of his neck. “I don’t want to stop.” She said more convincingly, “But,” At that word, he leaned away from the nook he had nested in and hovered close over her face to see her eyes, the chain holding his ring swinging between them. She gulped, her throat moving thickly. “I’m scared.” 

He gave her a quick kiss. “Wanna know a secret?” He asked easily. She gave him a puzzled look but nodded nonetheless, brushing the hair that was falling into his pretty eyes away. “I’m a little scared too.”

It took a second, but that secret smile she had only ever given him pulled up her lips and he smiled before kissing her. He slipped his tongue back into her mouth sighing at the sweetened taste and slowly moved his hands back to the outside of her thighs. He gently spread them apart until he could comfortingly lay between them.

He kept her attention on their lips as he nervously slipped one hand between them and experimentally stroked her moistened folds. She gasped into his mouth, effectively breaking their kiss and stared at him with wide eyes. His fingers softly stumbled up to the swollen bundle of nerves and gently pressed down with the pad of his fingers before moving them around in gentle circles. She whimpered, her hips moving in sync with his fingers. “Feel good?” He asked.

“Yes,” She breathed. Suddenly he slipped a single finger inside her. “Ohh, fuck” She gritted out, her hand clamping down on his magical wrist.

“Shit,” He cursed. Hearing her cuss while watching her pleasure was the hottest thing he had ever seen and he burned it into his memory. Gently, he began thrusting his finger in and out. “Em, you’re so wet baby.” He marveled, adding in a second finger.

“Draco, Draco, Draco…” His name came off her lips like a prayer; like sweet gospel and it sent a pleasant shiver tumbling down his spine. His cock was aching painfully and he needed something, anything, to relieve it.

He gave her a messy kiss as he felt her walls slowly clench and unclench around his digits. The feel of her drawing him in, as if her body never wanted to let him go, drove him over the edge and suddenly he was wearing too many clothes.

Tenderly, he pulled his fingers out of her and tilted back onto his haunches as he fumbled to unfasten his belt, the metal tingling together in his rush. Ember, panting, sat up just as he was thrusting down his trousers and boxer shorts. His member sprung free, slapping against his lower stomach and her mouth watered.

It was long and an angry pink, the very tip leaking. It was opposing and terrifying, but as he softly took his cock into his hands and gave a few tugs, she couldn’t help her curiosity. She reached out and traced a finger gently over the head.

Draco spluttered, having not been paying too much attention in his relief fest. She looked up at him through her long lashed her finger still touching his dick with the sweetest most innocently curious gaze he’d ever seen and his heart beat painfully against his ribs. He carefully moved his hand away from his erection so that she could take it in hers.

Ever so hesitantly, she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and he choked on his own spit. Slowly she began to stroke him, up and down, up and down, until she found her own rhythm. Her grip tightened and on every upstroke she clumsily twisted a little, pulling more and more precum out of his tip. His breaths came out in strangled whimpers as his cock wept for her. One of his hands came up to cup her cheek while the other brushed her hair out of her face as her eyes flitted between his member and his face. “Fuck baby, right there.” He moaned as her pace quickened slightly.

“Am I doing this right?” She asked, sounding much more confident that she was.

He gaped at her, but caressed her bottom lip with his thumb. “Fuck, yes, but stop. I’m going to cum right here if you don’t stop.”

She wasn’t sure what that meant exactly but respectfully released his dick and took the time to stare unabashedly at his chest in a way she hadn’t ever truly been able to before.  
He leaned into her and she brought him back over her as she laid on the bed. He gave her three kisses before shifting in between her thighs. He gripped his cock before running it up and down her wet slit. “Ember, baby, are you ready?”

She nodded, hands going to his chest as he continued to massage her pussy with the head of his cock. He shook his head, breaths coming out labored. “I need to hear you say it sweetheart.”

“Yes,” She whispered.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he pushed the head of thick cock inside of her. He gasped at the tightness encircling his member, nearly squeezing the life out of him, and quickly glanced up at Ember. Her eyes were screwed shut and her shoulder tensed up to her chin.

He stopped, head neatly sheathed inside her, and leaned forward to brush her sweaty locks out from underneath her neck. “Em, look at me baby.”

She whimpered at his voice and her walls simultaneously clamped down on him even more if possible. He groaned and ushered her again, rubbing one hand over her chest and lightly tweaking a nipple to try and distract her.

She finally wrenched her eyes open. “It hurts.”

He kissed her nose. “I know. It’s supposed to hurt the first time, but it gets better.” He softly kneaded her breast. “Do you want me to stop?”

She took quick deep breaths. “N-No, just give me a minute.”

He pecked her lips quickly and tried to focus on her breasts instead of the extreme pleasure running through his nether regions. Suddenly her skin glowed blue, it was cold and electrified Draco’s skin to attention, before pulling around him and drawing him into her patronus. The pleasant feel of her healing energy rushed through his veins like cold water after a heat stroke. He’d never felt her raw energy pass through him when it wasn’t localized to his pain. It was gloriously peaceful and wrapped around them as they were wrapped around each other and entwined them deeper. His words, whatever they were, caught in his throat as she stared up at him with nothing but adoration and ever so slowly retracted her patronus, nodding her head. He felt her relax beneath him and gently he began to thrust.

It was sloppy and clumsy as any first time between two virgins should be. The only sounds besides there mingle breaths and their lusty moans was the sound of the creaking bed and their skin slapping together. The glow of the lamps around them shadowed them in a perfect afterglow.

Draco groaned as he captured her lips with his in the most passionate kiss they had ever shared. Each time he pushed in, her walls clamped around him in a vice like grip, begging him to stay, causing him to nearly growl at the beginnings of ecstasy on the edge of the cliff. He reached between them, pressing sloppily against her clit. “Draco,” She preened up at him as she latched at his lips and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth.

A tingly feeling began to coil in her lower belly, terrifying her to its significance, but it all felt so good and watching the emotions cross Draco’s face as his ring swung back and forth between them was a show she would happily watch for the rest of her days. Her moans pitched up higher and suddenly she bucked her hips to meet his, and the coil broke loose sending a tidal pool of pleasure sweeping through her; from the top of her head to the tip of her curling toes. She preened her pleasure as Draco’s thrusts became faster and deeper. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.” He gritted out watching the space that connected them; and with four more thrusts he spilt himself inside her, shouting her name.

He collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath. Her hands came up to clasp his head to her heaving chest and brushed her fingers through his damp locks. Their pounding hearts beat against each other as if they were trying to rip through the skin and embrace each other.

Draco pressed his lips against her salty skin in delicate kisses before shifting his weight off of her. She squeaked when he gently slipped out of her and rest his back beside her, still dazzled by the stars that were circling his vision.

“We could have been doing that this entire time.” She whispered in awe.

He lifted his head to see her lust controlled gaze and chuckled before dropping head back to the sheets. “They’ll be plenty of time for more.”

She turned her head to look at him, before turning and burrowing up to his side to rest her head on his shoulder. She placed a kiss at the base of his throat and hummed in contentment. 

One of his arms wrapped around her bare back, brushing the ends of her damp hair. He once again thanked whatever force that decided to give her to him even though he didn’t deserve her. 

~

The world that was on fire was quiet in the nest of their coupling. They faded in and out of consciousness wondering where they went from here. Greyback had found them somehow. He obviously hadn’t been able to track them or else he would already have burst through their door and Ember would have died from embarrassment to be sure. They couldn’t go back to Canada; however he had found them, pieces of them had travelled all over the country.

With their personal problems resolved, the environmental problems were glaring. The afterglow was fading like a dam of dread being released.

“Do you think he was trying to bite me?” Ember whispered, stroking soft distracting circles into his chest.

“Yes.” He exhaled. Greyback’s carnivore teeth were so close to her jugular that it was impossible to consider an alternative. The werewolf’s entire inner mantra was to turn enough children until he had a hefty pack.

It occurred to him then, that in the mounting chaos of their departure, he hadn’t had the chance to divulge to her what he had overheard, that once upon a time there had been an idea to send Greyback after her.

“Was he sent to find us? Or did he just happen upon us?” She asked inquisitively, almost rhetorically.

“What do you mean?” Hadn’t it been obvious that he had been looking for them?

She sat up on her elbow so that she could look at his face, his hair still sticking damply to him forehead, his pretty blue eyes like fresh cut diamonds. “I mean do you think Voldemort told any of them to try and find us, or do you think he specifically gave the task to Greyback?”

“I don’t know.” He took a deep breath and pushed her hair behind her ear. “Look, there's something I overheard that I should have told you all those months ago.”

“Yes?” She urged apprehensively.

“Yaxley, Bellatrix, Greyback, and…my father they were discussing having Greyback bite you.”

A violent shiver wracked through her body and she sat up, wrapping the recently uncovered sheet around her body. “What do you mean? You-Know-Who told them to have him turn me?”

He shook his head, placing his hand on his stomach. “No, He didn’t have anything to do with it. They were upset about your performance, or lack of performance on the raid missions. It was assumed that if Greyback bit you then you would be of no further value to the Dark Lord and you’d be cast aside.”

Her eyes flew over the bed, the gears in her brain turning hastily, before resting back on his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He had the decency to advert his eyes. “You were already stressed. I thought that if I could tell You-Know-Who before any plans went into action it would be snuffed out before anything came of it. Then we left, and it didn’t matter anymore.”

She digested his words slowly, accepting the fact that he thought he was doing the right thing by keeping it from her.

He brushed his thumb over her arm lightly. “What does it matter if You-Know-Who ordered it or not?

“If he specifically sent Greyback, that means he doesn’t care if we get turned or not. Which means he’s figured out that my abilities aren’t worth as much to him as they once were. If he ordered it, it means I can’t barter with him.”

“Was that your back up plan?” He asked incredulously. “If He found us, manage to wiggle your way back into his service?”

“If it kept us alive.” She looked away from him. “He always acted like I was vital to the operation, like I was special. It gave me leverage. He could have sent anyone to try and find us, but sending Greyback sends the clear message that he doesn’t give a damn what might happen to my abilities if I was turned. That bridge is burned.”

He sat up beside her, rubbing the back of his neck. “We didn’t want that bridge anyway. Good riddance.”

She looked at him gravely. “Burning bridges is serious business. You never want to fully burn a bridge. You never know when you might need one.”

Draco had always thought of himself as clever. School had never been particularly hard and he’d always made the highest marks of his year only rivaled by Granger, but he never would have looked that deep into the reasoning behind Greyback’s appearance. It mattered little, they wouldn’t know if Voldemort had sent Greyback or not unless they came across him again.

“In a few hours we’ll go out and find exactly where we are and if it’s safe to stay. Italy’s close to the hot zone, but it might be worth it to check in on Europe under the radar. If not, we’ll go to an island or something remote.”

“Alright.” She agreed, before looking over her shoulder at him with false innocence. “Until then?”

He grinned and pinned her back to the mattress.

~

The roads were not paved especially well in Italy and maps were not so conveniently found. Neither of them spoke enough Italian to converse with the muggles which drew them to the conclusion that they weren’t close to any tourist heavy area. 

Draco was stopped in front of what looked to be a pawn shop, looking in through the window at the signs inside to try and identify where they were, as Ember scanned the space around them.

A small man, with three obscenely muscular men stepped out onto the street just up ahead of them wearing an oddly familiar bowlers hat. His skinned was bronzed and his hair was slicked back underneath the hat. His face turned just enough so that she could see his disfigured neck. The skin was crumpled together with scars that could only be placed by severe burns. 

She gasped aloud. A feeling, or a memory, tried to race to the surface, screaming at her instinctually to run. It was so visceral that she tightened her grip on Draco and apparated on the spot with a racing heart.

Her brain hadn’t truly been focusing on a destination, just letting her float with the liquefied feeling as her mind throbbed. She vaguely felt Draco’s hand pulling her down through to the surface as they landed with a loud bang instead of a crack.

She was hyperventilating and dropped his hand to claw at her throat. Her stomach twisted in knots, her head splitting within itself, a vicious tremor passing through her.

Draco gave her some room, the fear racking through her body gave him caution. She had never apparated them without cause, but it was difficult to figure out what had happened to ignite her so. “What happened?” He asked softly, but with enough of an expectant edge.

All Ember was able to pant out was, “Bad man.” When her vision cleared, she looked past Draco to see where she had brought them.

They were standing just outside a cottage that sent a chill through her bones. It was as if it had never been wiped from her memories, just shadowed until something brought it to the surface. Later she would recognize it as a sick version of nostalgia brought on purely by her senses, but now, before she could tell Draco where they were, the front door opened and both of them froze like deer caught in the headlights.

Olivia Knight stood on the porch gazing down at the couple in disbelief.


	36. Patchworked Past

“They said I’m going nowhere, tried to count me out. Took those sticks and stones, showed them I could build a house.”  
-Katy Perry, Daisies

Draco immediately grabbed Ember’s arm. He wasn’t sure why that was his first instinct, but the cold distant look in her eyes juxtaposing the intense panic attack she had only just been on the edge of, with the apparently not-so-random reveal of his mother-in-law gave him caution.

Olivia blinked harshly before searching the area around them. She angled her body sideways, invitingly and spoke anxiously, “Get inside.”

Draco looked around them too. The cottage was on the outskirts of a town, the closest building was a house a quarter mile away. Unfortunately they needed a place to lay low, to figure out where they were, and so he made the executive decision.

He urged Ember, who had feet made of cement, towards the door keeping a firm grip of her arm. They shuffled through the doorway, and he kept a skeptical eye on the woman he had only seen once before. He didn’t trust her, and certainly had a multitude of things he wanted to mouth off at her, but he had to trust that somewhere buried in the depths of her black heart she didn’t want her baby to die.

Olivia shut the door behind them and wrapped her cardigan around her tightly, shifting in her place, without words to say. “Why are you two here?”

“Where is here?” Draco asked, eremitic.

“This is home.” Ember answered, staring at the decorations littering every inch of the walls. Her eyes fell to her stranger of a mother. “Or was one of them.” She said patronizingly.

Draco vigilantly looked between the two Knight women and instantly felt as if he was out of place, before settling on Olivia for any sort of confirmation. The woman ignored him almost entirely as she stared at the remains of her daughter with disquieted eyes. “Let’s speak in the sitting room.”

She turned and led the way down the narrow hallway. Ember begrudgingly followed, taking in the comfort of Draco behind her and inhaled deeply. It was meant to calm her down but instead she stumbled to a stop, choking on the familiar smell of cedar. Draco’s chest hit her back at the abrupt stop.

Ember started shaking, clinging to anything to keep her from seemingly disconnecting into a panic attack or instinctively apparating. The scent attacked her and unlocked another line of memories; little moments, jumbled together, connected by an invisible string flashing before her eyes. She whimpered at the onslaught, the pain in her head forming into nauseating pressure.

Draco grabbed her shoulders to steady her. He wanted to ask her if she was okay, but clearly she wasn’t and instead he settled for whispering in her ear, “It’s going to be okay.” He kept a hand at the base of her spine and pressed her forward.

He would make sure it was okay. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to her in this house. The first sign of any aggression, he was hexing Olivia and getting Ember the hell out of there.

The sitting room was dressed as exotically as the entry way. For a family that had seemed to be on the run, they had an impressive collection of unnecessary items. All of it seemed impersonal, things draped over to cover the fact that there were no pictures and no noteworthy collectibles. 

Ember moved in a fog to sit down on the couch, bringing Draco forcibly down beside her, across from her skittish mother. Her neurons were firing at an alarming rate to the point where she couldn’t quite focus on one thing. Her senses were oversaturated and she could have sworn she had broken her toe on the monkey statue sitting in the corner of the room in her youth.

“Where have you two been? Your mother sent me an owl months ago asking if I had encountered you.” Olivia started accusingly, looking to Draco. She was sitting slanted down in the arm chair. Her arms were crossed over her chest just enough that it struck Ember, through her discombobulated state, as odd.

At the mention of Narcissa, Draco winced. “We diverted from the path.”

“Ah.” Olivia said shortly, as if that was all the explanation she needed. “I know something of that myself.”

“Yeah.” Draco said awkwardly, drawing out the word. He had never exchanged more than two words with this woman and was now stuck in the uncomfortable situation as Ember sat completely disconnected beside him. “We were somewhere it Italy, are we still in Italy, when Ember saw a man and apparated us here. She must have remembered it subconsciously.”

Olivia pursed her pink lips, staring at the coffee table that separated them. Draco glanced around the room, pleased with the fact that his mother-in-law hadn’t shown any aggression besides passive.

Ember’s vision returned to normal, her bones heavy but intact, her mind screaming but softly. The anger, oh that anger that she had hidden, ignored, for a long time, was barely reigned in. “How did you do it?” She spat.

“How did I do what?” Olivia asked almost apathetically.

“How did you and,” She swallowed thickly as if the word would actual pain her, “Dad escape the Death Eaters for so many years after you diverted?”

Draco curiously glanced back between the pair. Never had he seen Ember’s eyes so dark. She had naturally dark green eyes, but those small specs of gold were nowhere to be found and he worried for how this would end. Olivia remained stoic, and he wondered for a moment if she would deny her this as well.

Olivia pursed her lips. “We drained our accounts, cut off all communication. We had several different safe houses, and we stopped using magic unless it was completely necessary.”

“Why stop using magic?” Draco asked.

She tilted her head towards him almost wisely. “All types of magic can be traced if one knows how to trace it.”

“Alright.” He’d give her that. “But why did you leave in the first place? Pureblood wizards don’t just divert without good reason.”

Olivia’s eyes held all her woes. It weighed down her shoulders and scrunched her spine together. “Why should I discuss this with you?” She asked simply, guardingly.

Ember was about to shout, to scream, to cry, or a mixture of all three, but Draco beat her to it. “Because you owe her an explanation.” He said darkly, his eyes icicles. 

Olivia sagged if only a little and Draco knew that she wasn’t immune to the connection between mother and child; it was still in her however short a supply it was. Guilt flickered in her eyes and she bit on her lip in the same spot Ember always did. “The Dark Lord was a menace back before you were born.” She sighed. “Blaine was a sort of commodity to Tom. He was exceptionally good at charms, wildly known, and charming. He could fit in with any crowd and became a underline spy in the war. You-Know-Who didn’t keep many people close back them, I’m assuming he keeps even less now, but both of your fathers were in his inner circle. I was later initiated because of my own certain abilities. Narcissa was allowed to remain as neutral as possible because she was connected with more than her fair share of Death Eaters. She had no overtly exceptional connection with magic and therefore had the luxury to remain loyal without the chains, I did not.

“Before the Order became a problem, Blaine had been given a task. He was secretive about it at first, he wouldn’t even confide in me, but the Dark Lord became greedier and greedier and Blaine…Well Blaine was never meant to by a mere follower. And then there were the horcruxes.”

“What are horcruxes?” Draco asked.

Olivia tore her eyes from her unwavering daughter to look at her son-in-law. “Horcruxes are how he stays alive. When you murder someone, your soul starts to split upon itself, creating fragments. Dark wizards long ago discovered a spell that if preformed at the right moment after a murder, will capture part of the splintered soul and seal it in an object known as a horcrux. Besides the first creator in Ancient Greece, You-Know-Who is the only one known to have created horcruxes.”

“As in plural?” Ember questioned, her hands shaking in her lap.

Olivia nodded. “There were five when we left. No telling how many there are now.”

Draco felt light-headed at the information. Voldemort had always seemed wraith like, almost transparent, but to hear that only a fifth (if that) of his soul remained in his body was horrific. He saw the flash of Dumbledore’s eyes in his mind and trembled uncomfortably at the knowledge that he could have risked splintering his soul.

Olivia cleared her throat. “You see Blaine was extremely valuable because of his perfection of memory charms. The Dark Lord back then delegated a sense of security to Blaine, so Blaine would go with him and create false memory charms to any witnesses when he created horcruxes, among other things.”

“What happened in Albania?” Ember questioned abruptly.

Olivia’s face was covered in shock, but she recovered it well to only narrowing her eyes skeptically. “How do you know about Albania?”

“He gave an elaborate story before He killed him.” 

Olivia flinched, having assumed her husband had died but hearing it so forthright was salt in invisible wounds. She swallowed thickly, unable to keep eye contact with either of them. “The Dark Lord had the notion that every horcrux he made needed to have a significance. He wanted one from every founder of Hogwarts. At the time, he already had one from Hufflepuff and Slytherin, but he couldn’t figure out what object to use from Gryffindor, so he started his search for Rowena Ravenclaw’s lost diadem.

“Helena Ravenclaw stole it from her mother and ran away only for the Bloody Baron to find her in Albania, after she hid the diadem in a hollow tree. The Baron killed her when she refused to come with him and then killed himself. You-Know-Who charmed this information out of the ghost of Helena. She prided in the fact that no one would ever be able to find it, and if they did, only a Ravenclaw would be able to obtain it. Before her death, she had cast riddles upon riddles over the hollow.

“After obtaining this information, he travelled to Albania with Blaine, Hughes, and myself.

“Why you?”

Olivia shrugged unashamedly. “I’m a Ravenclaw. I was the only Death Eater initiated that wasn’t a Slytherin.”

It was a heavy statement. One had never assumed that a Death Eater was anything but Slytherin, because no one ever had been. It’s one of the superstitions of the house. Not all who are in Slytherin house are evil, but evil wizards seemed only to be brewed from Slytherin house. Just another enigmatic circumstance when it came to the Knight’s.

She continued as if she hadn’t dropped an intriguing fact, her eyes seeming far away. “Blaine had been planning on leaving for weeks. He didn’t like the idea of You-Know-Who being immortal, hated it even more that he was helping him to do so. No one would ever be able to get out of the shadow of the Dark Lord if he lived forever. My involvement was just the sort of leverage Blaine needed to divert.

“So, we went to Albania, I solved the riddles and handed the diadem over. The Dark Lord murdered a lowly peasant and created the horcrux right there, thinking that he was amongst friends. He wanted to stash the diadem at Hogwarts, and he wanted my help to get into the Ravenclaw common room. So, Blaine managed to convince him that the two of us would be able to hide it there far easier than he could. He had just been rejected for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position and it would have been extremely suspicious if he had showed back up. He agreed, but instead of hiding it, we stole the diadem and made a run for it.” 

Olivia was not looking at either of them, instead her eyes remained unfocused and she nervous picked at a thread of her cardigan. “We managed to escape for years. We kept moving around. The only one who ever found us was Hughes, but that was only because he wanted a piece of the action. Blaine, instead of welcoming a follower of his own, killed him and tried to make a horcrux of his own and failed.” She glanced up, eyes flickering between the two of them. “But you see, we were desperate at that point, just living in hollowed shells; snapping at each other at every turn. Horcruxes- they steal any happiness you have and reveal your worst fears to you; makes you doubt even the most certain of truths. Blaine tried to destroy it, used nearly every spell in the book; most of which backfired cruelly. Eventually it became too much and we were young and foolish. Blaine tossed it into the Caspian Sea in 79’ and we moved to Japan. 

“Two years later, You-Know-Who dies. We waited almost a year for any signs of his return, but eventually we assumed that the horcruxes had malfunctioned. We went back to the Caspian sea to try and retrieve the diadem, but it was gone. With no further reason to hide, we went back. Our first stop was Malfoy Manor. Lucius was ashamed of us, as he should be, we had left his cause and abandoned him cowardly enough, and he would only agree to help us if we gave his son a wife.”

And there it was, said so casually, the moment that had sealed both of their fates. The principal still agitated them, and probably always would, but they found the silver lining in each other and for that moment in time, it was enough.

“So, we struct an unbreakable vow and we had you. Lucius let us stay with them for a time as we integrated ourselves back into society, but we had to be cautious. A lot of You-Know-Who’s followers were locked up in Azkaban, but there were others that had escaped consequence and were still loyal to the cause. Eventually, we moved out here. Then, Forelli discovered that we were living in his territory.”

“Forelli?” Ember asked.

“The Forelli’s are the most powerful and influential wizarding family of Italy.” Draco explained, having an inkling of where this story was heading.

Olivia sighed bitterly. “Antonio is the proprietor and keeps connections with the ministry. Roberto deals with the imports and the exports. But Mario defected and dealt with smuggling in pharmaceuticals. He was a squib and had little to his name in the shadow of his family, but he married Angelica Mariano; a powerful witch in her own right. They controlled one of the prominent Sicilian muggle mafias. 

“Mario is the one who found us here. And instead of handing us over to his brothers, and therefore the ministry, he blackmailed us into working for him by transporting his inventory across the world.”

“Until that went sideways.” Ember stated dryly, her eyes narrowed. “You sent me away to school. He came one night, Angelica disarmed you, and he held you at gunpoint.” She angled her head slightly to Draco, leaving her eyes on her mother. “That was the man I saw in the road. Instinctually, I knew he was dangerous.”

Olivia would not let her daughter misinterpret their motivations. “We sent you away because we grew tired of having to hide you everywhere we went. You were useless, to think that we produced a squib was laughable. And part of the reason we agreed to have you is because we knew that we could ship you off to Hogwarts for most of your life, but obviously that failed. You kept getting more and more unreasonable. It was a perfect solution to ship you off; you were hidden and a nuisance no longer.” Her eyes hardened and her lips settled in a thin line. “Until you broke your ankle and got expelled helping that stupid professor.”

“You got expelled?” Draco turned to look at Ember incredulously. It was obvious that she had left out a lot of interesting facts of her sessions with Snape. She was so obedient, so patient and rule-abiding that it was absurd to think of her possibly getting expelled from anything.

His exclamation was ignored.

“You would have dragged me out anyway.” Ember disagreed, paying no mind to the cruel condescending face of her mother. “That happened right when Vold-“ She let out an aggravated huff, “Right when You-Know-Who came back. It’s fuzzy, but I can remember the both of you flying off the handle. I was a link to you, you changed my name but only anagrammed it just like Tom Riddle did. He would have found you through me. So, you made me follow you everywhere you went on a short leash just like I was a pet; obliviating me left and right so that when I was eventually handed over to the Malfoy’s, I wouldn’t know anything about your shoddy past.” The words spilled from her mouth in angry torrents, filled with fired venom, but they only met a shiny wall. It made no difference to her mother what Ember’s thoughts were on the matter. And it would have been better, it would have made Ember satisfied to rile her mother up into a true match of words, but Olivia Knight would not be moved. The older woman was not ashamed of her actions, and did not regret them either. She was obstinate, and fighting with obstinate people leads to nothing gratifying; only hurled confessions that came with no closure. 

Ember studied her mother for a long time. The lines of her face; the wrinkles by her eyes, her pinched nose and pink, thinning, lips, and recognized none of it. Olivia made no move to correct her and the undiffused anger in Ember’s gut manifested into sharps words. “Did you know, that you never evaded Forelli? Mario visited my school quite often. In fact, I saw him there the morning before I fell from the window.”

“That’s not possible.”

Ember shook her head, smirking corruptly. “It’s true. He was the only man ever allowed on the campus. He noticed me more often than not. He might have even spoke with me, but if he did, I don’t remember it. You should know though, with all your selfish meticulous hiding, that you never truly evaded anyone.”

The tension that had been there since their impromptu arrival, strained to thick pressure, hovering in the air around them like a deadly gas. The hairs on the back of Draco’s neck stood at attention and he tried to divert the conversation. “Why didn’t they bring you with your husband for our wedding?”

Olivia frowned, the first look of remorse crossing her face. “Dolohov had been tracking us for weeks after we discarded you. He finally caught us.”

“How did you escape?”

“I’m an Animagus.”

“A what?” Ember asked, confused.

“It means that she can transform into an animal, like McGonagall.” Draco answered offhandedly. “Why would you transform and leave your husband to Dolohov?”

“Wait,” Ember said impatiently, holding out her hand. “What can you transform into?”

“My Animagus is a hummingbird, too tiny and quick to catch. I had hopes of interfering Dolohov before Blaine was brought to the Dark Lord but clearly was unsuccessful. So, here I am hiding in the one place neither of them would think to look for me.”

The tone shifted slightly at the end of the tale. “Did you write back to Narcissa?” Ember asked skeptically, already knowing the answer; and fearing the outcome of the end of this conversation.

Olivia rolled her eyes, “Of course I did.”

“Will you write her after we leave?” Ember didn’t know if she expected her mother to spout the truth or more ambiguous lies, but wanted to know her answer no matter which way it leaned.

Olivia was silent for a while, glancing between the two teenagers and sizing them up with her eyes. “Probably. In fact,” She carefully unwrapped her cardigan, revealing her wand threateningly at the two of them. “I think I might just call the Death Eaters here myself. I’m sure I’d be pardoned for handing you both over.”

Ember scoffed, “You clearly underestimate everyone in this situation.”

The wrinkled skin around Olivia’s narrowed eyes smoothed as if she assumed Ember was bluffing.

It was Ember’s turn to roll her eyes. Draco looked on at the staring match, carefully and inconspicuously reaching for his own wand trapped in his back pocket. “They always told me that I was the naïve one.” Ember shook her head. “If you go back, He’ll just dispose of you like he did father. He has no need for you. I have no need for you. No one needs you.”

And just like that, Ember got underneath the hardened skin of Olivia by shattering the instinct all mothers have; that needing, nurturing, disposition. Olivia’s elegant face crumpled under such an aggression contorting it into something quite ugly. She snapped her wrist, sending a jinx straight at her daughter. But unlike all the times before, Ember was prepared for this backlash, had been expecting it, and she brought up her protective patronus just in time to absorb the spell. 

The unadulterated disbelief of her mother gave Draco just enough time to disarm her and grasp the offending wand. 

Olivia Knight shriveled before them, her eyes round and pleading, but she didn’t dare speak a word. She was being held under the discretion of the daughter she never wanted. The very being she snuffed out before she even had the chance to sprout. 

Ember stood up gracefully, looking down at the strange woman before her with a concoction of pain and anger blazing in her chest and shooting through her veins. 

Draco saw the look in her eye; the one he had seen in so many others- one that she would never be able to recover from if acted upon. “Ember, we should leave. It’s not worth it.” He mediated in a stern yet understanding tone.

She shook her head deliberately, not taking her eyes off her prey. “We leave and she just goes running off to the Death Eaters.” The words came out emotionless, as detached as her face had become. She reached her hand out towards him. “Her wand.” She requested.

“Ember, don’t you remember the day we spent in Paris?” Her mother pleaded as her eyes fearfully followed Draco begrudgingly handing over her wand to her daughter. “W-We spent the morning at the Louvre, and then we walked by the seine. We got gelato in the Tuileries. It was just you and me. Don’t you remember?”

Leaving her face cold and complacent, Ember’s grip tightened on the thin wand. “No, I don’t. Do you know why? Any memory I ever had was taken from me. Altered so that I became a version of nothing.” She held out her mother’s wand, her fingers surprisingly steady. “It seems fitting that you should be given the same fate.” She watched the understanding dawn on her face with little satisfaction. “Obliviate.” She whispered with conviction; the word that held so much of her, rolling off her tongue like water.

Immediately, her mother’s teary eyes spilled over before they became dazedly unfocused and her thin pink lips parted. Silvery tendrils swished through the air, all encapsulated into the wand. It took no more than a minute, to erase a lifetime of memories. Ember felt no remorse as the woman before them looked between her and Draco in complete confusion. 

Ember took the thin wand made of rosewood with a unicorn hair core and broke it beyond repair before casting it to the floor. “There. Now we can go.”

She spared the woman who birthed her no more glances and gave her no more thoughts. She crossed the room with even steps, past Draco and headed to the front of the cottage and out of the door.

He stared somewhat horrified at the scene before him. He could never have anticipated Ember having the nerve to seek such revenge. But it wasn’t her boldness that troubled him. It was witnessing the removal of memories, the calamitously poignant erasing of one’s life, and knowing that the one he loved the most had gone through the act more times than could be counted that nauseated him.

He left the room, with the bewildered eyes of his mother-in-law following him numbly, with bated breaths, entirely cautious of the Ember he would find outside.

She was standing in no way that would have had him believe that any of what just occurred affected her. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her face was angled to the sky. Her shoulders not tense, her eyes not misty, and her jaw not clenched. 

It was then that Draco understood that Ember understood people in a way that he never could. On the sidelines for so long, she had become thoroughly observant, almost psychoanalytical in its truth. She could unravel a person, a situation, without so much as a conversation. She could figure out the motives, feelings, and limits of a person. For one that had been so undone herself, she listened in a way that others could not.

“Em,” He whispered softly.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She spoke out into the evening wind before turning towards him; her features exhausted. “We need to get out of Italy and find a place to stay tonight. Have any ideas?”

He wanted to push, to insist that this was the very type of thing that needed to be talked about; but it wasn’t a chapter that he had been very much a part of and therefore felt he had no right to demand anymore of her for the night. So, instead, he let the questions he had fade to the back burner and stuffed his right hand in the front pockets of his leather jacket. “Well I think we’re going to have to travel normally. We can’t go anywhere that we’ve been now, unless your elusive mind can cook us up another subconscious memory of a location. But,” He sighed tiredly, “We saw how great that worked out the last time.”

She frowned, drawing the ends of the sleeves of her sweater over her hands against the brutal chilling wind. “Where would we go?”

He tilted his head and offered, “We could fly to Austria.”

“Fly?” She emphasized questioningly followed by an unsure gulp.

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “It’s overcast tonight. Austria isn’t that far, only a few hours. It’s not much of a hub for wizards beside Nurmengard. Should be safe for a night or two until we can come up with something better.”

She shrugged her consent, having no better ideas of her own, and Draco lifted their backpack that was in his hand back around his shoulder so that he could reach the front pocket where his palm sized Nimbus 2001 was stored. He returned his precious broom to its rightful size and handed the backpack over to Ember. She slung it on her back before tightening the straps.

The two wordlessly walked to the other side of the cottage that provided a bit more coverage. When they were in the heavy shadows, he charmed his broom to levitate over the ground before them. He smirked affectionately at Ember, who looked slightly nauseous. 

“I don’t know about this.” She whispered hesitantly.

“You’re not afraid of heights are you?” He asked as she eyed the levitating broom warily.

She slowly raised her gaze to give him an unimpressed look. “Oh, right. Stupid question.” He tossed a leg over the broom, keeping his feet on the ground, and held out a hand to her. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”

She took a deep breath, bouncing on her toes to psych herself up. Nervously, she straddled the broom behind him, wiggling her arms tightly around his torso.

Without preamble, Draco kicked off the ground and soared up into the sky. Ember squealed quietly into his shoulder as the ground disappeared below them and clutched onto Draco. They soared above the rumbling clouds, getting doused in the condensed water. 

They hovered for a moment, Draco reveling over the weightlessness of flying. He looked over his shoulder at her with playful blue pearls of eyes, pale skin, defined jawline, and damp white hair that was clinging in front of his eyes. He was so beguiling, staring at her blithely, surrounded by clouds and she caught herself imagining all the many things she wished to do with him when they found a place to stay in Austria. Draco, sensing the direction of her thoughts, smirked before turning his eyes away from her and zooming off east;

Laughing at Ember’s squeals all the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> END OF PART THREE
> 
> Just an fyi, I'm really trying to get the rest of this book up by the end of the year. So expect chapters to come out more frequently considering we only have like 2 and a half weeks left of the year.
> 
> I'd really like any feedback you might have, as long as its constructive. We're getting to the part of the book where I'm not as confident.


	37. The Pressure of Morals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PART FOUR
> 
> In which, she was the key to the redemption he didn't know he needed.

“And I know I may end up failing too. But I know you were just like me with someone disappointed in you.”  
-Linkin Park, Numb

It was strange the way facings one’s demons could sort out their priorities. 

The runaways sneaked into another hotel just outside Wels. Without avidly having Greyback on their trail, it might have even been considered fun. When the door had been closed and locked behind them, both fell to the bed with a long sigh. The decompressing was quiet, a thin line of tension remaining since dealing with Olivia Knight.

Ember had never spoken much about her family. She hadn’t seemed concerned with them since they revealed that they had sold her to the Malfoy’s. She hadn’t even mentioned her mother since Blaine’s murder. Draco knew that she thought of them often, she would have had to. But her disinclination to discuss her narcissistic parents in the first place caused him to be unsure of how to broach the subject; much less of what he had to offer in words.

For a moment there, in that exotically dressed cottage, Draco really thought that Ember was going to kill her mother, but he should have known better. Ember thought in motioned steps ahead of the immediate, and while murdering Olivia might have left them with the same result; taking her memories was the best solution. He had no doubt that any other option would have led to Olivia to divulge their whereabouts to the enemy.

For now, they were relatively safe, and he was left with an inscrutable Ember. He could see her mind turning, processing the closure she might have gotten, or the information they had received. Or perhaps she was just suffering in silence, perhaps she had always been suffering in silence. It wasn’t something she liked to talk about and he respected that, but she was so indecipherable sometimes that it was hard to garner what she needed.

“So…” He started lamely, expecting her to either ignore him or express her feelings on the night.

“Yeah…” She breathed out with a defeated, haunted, voice. She turned her head to look at him and sucked in her bottom lip for a moment before gazing straight into his eyes, dark green meeting pale blue. “I think we need to find Harry.”

What the fuck?

It had come so far out of nowhere that Draco practically chocked on his own spit and gave himself whiplash from sitting up too quickly. “Excuse me, what? It’s funny for a second there I thought you said we need to find Potter.”

“I did.” She admitted with a crinkled nose. Which was incredibly frustrating because it made her adorable where all he wanted to do was scoop her up have a nice long bath and sleep an eternity, when he now needed to sneak into her brain and see precisely where her wires were crossed. 

He pushed off the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Dammit Ember, speak plainly. Why would we need to find Potter?”

She slowly rose so that she was sitting in front of him, watching him as he began to pace. “Didn’t you hear what she said about horcruxes?”

He rolled his eyes, silent reprimanding himself for even speaking. He was so much calmer a minute ago. “So what? That it’s just that much harder to kill him? What concern of that is ours? Fuck, why does that concern Potter?”

She tilted her head, her face much more collected than it had been all night. “You-Know-Who is actively trying to kill Harry. Don’t you think Harry should know what he’s up against? I doubt anyone outside the most trusted of Death Eaters know about the horcruxes. Your father didn’t know about them; I even doubt that Bellatrix or Dolohov are in on it. No one would listen to us. They’ll assume we were trying to pull the wool over their eyes, but if we tell Harry…”

Draco abruptly turned to face her, with his hands on his hips. “Who says Potter would listen to us?”

She paused, closing her mouth in a tight line before responding. “You’re right. I don’t think he’s going to believe us just like that, but we have to try. He’s on the run as much as you and I are. We sent that letter and maybe if it did help him, he’d at least consider our words.”

“And what happens after that? What happens to us?” Draco argued, fervently trying to poke holes through her reasoning.

Her eyes struggled to meet his, and he knew that she had been thinking deeply about everything in that inexhaustible silence of hers. “I think you were right.” She said contritely.

He tilted his head, baffled.

“I think you were right; running away was never truly an option.” She licked her lips and sighed with her whole body. “Staying wasn’t either, but I think we overlooked the third.”

“Third?”

She looked up at him beseechingly, bottom lip between her teeth, her forest eyes forlorn. “Switching to the other side. We never considered going to the Order. We never considered spilling secrets, spilling plans.”

He shook his head reproachfully. “Because it was suicidal. We go back there and we’re fucked. Death Eaters don’t want us. The Order of the bloody Phoenix isn’t going to welcome us with open arms either. We have nothing to give them now anyway!”

She shifted to her knees before him earnestly. “No, now we do. We could keep running. Going to a different country every night, hope that Greyback doesn’t catch us; but Drake- this isn’t a life.” Her chest expanded quickly as if she was trying to control her emotions. “Maybe I thought that it was. Maybe I was naïve enough to believe that if we just shook them off, we’d be able to settle down somewhere; but as long as He’s alive and has power we’re never going to be safe. We have information to help end him. We need to help however little we can.” She waited a moment before tacking on the final pushing fact; “Then maybe we can return to our lives without having to worry about persecution or consequences of past actions.”

He was quiet. He missed the world he was born into. Sure, maybe the muggles weren’t as awful as he had always been led to believe, but that didn’t mean that he would ever fit in with them. They’d only been running for less than a year and he was already enervated; he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for much longer. But what is much? Even though she made fair, extremely valid points, it was dangerous. Nowhere was safe in his world. They go back and more than likely both of them wouldn’t make it out alive. They left to avoid the abuse- to avoid the war; could they really go back in the thick of it?

He was lost to his thoughts for such a long time that he went to the window and lit up a cigarette. Ember let him without commenting any further, patiently remaining sat on the bed. Having the sweet and bitter nicotine fill his lungs was soothing the knot in his chest. He knew she was right; he had always been just two steps behind her moral compass, but he did have one. But it wasn’t morality that sealed his decision. It was the crawling realization, as he looked out to the dark sky, that he knew where the lost diadem was, and that he might be the only one who knew.

He tried to think of what his father would do. Lucius would keep the information close to his chest, keep a careful eye from the side lines, only revealing what he kept to himself at the most opportune moment for himself. That’s how Draco knew it would be wrong to remain blind witnesses with important information at the tip of their fingers. “Alright.” He whispered into the night, snuffing out his cigarette and turning back towards the ever composed Ember. “We’ll find Potter. We’ll try and give him the information and then…then-” The thought of a future past that was impossible to conceive, and he was terrified to try. 

Ember finished for him. “If it’s too hostile, we’ll leave and figure out something else. I just- I don’t think it’s enough anymore; to sit by and do nothing.”

He took a minute, digesting her definitive words, before all the pent up anxiety rushed through him like a hurricane. They were doing this. The only thoughts that held any weight at this point where the repetitive innumerable what ifs. What if, what if, what if.

He chewed the inside of his mouth as his eyes settled on her. “Can you even find him?”

She nodded unsteadily. “I think so. He grabbed me when he cornered me in the corridor after Slughorn’s party.”

He nodded mutely, doubting they’d get any sleep tonight. 

~

They slept on it, or well tried to sleep on it. Draco woke up to Ember clinging his forearm to her chest and felt his lips twitch at the sight. He lifted a finger to trail lightly against her jaw and her eyes fluttered before she inhaled deeply and blinked her mesmerizing eyes at him sleepily.

They got ready silently, as if they were getting ready to go to war, already mourning what little they had accomplished. 

Ember wiped her exhausted face and suddenly knew why Draco avoided mirrors. All she could see in her was the haunting eyes of her mother. She wished that she could obliviate them from her own memories. What she did wasn’t glorifying, it wasn’t relieving; it was just depressing. She changed her dress for dark jeans and a grey top. She stole Draco’s green plaid button up from the sack for comfort and put it on, rolling up the sleeves that were too big.

Draco was donned in black. Where he had once dressed in black suits, he now dressed in jeans and leather; still entirely unapproachable to the general public but down to earth enough to not seem arrogant. He stood by the window, chain smoking three cigarettes with a leg bouncing of anxiety as he waited for Ember to finish getting ready.

She toed on the boots she had got just two days before they had abruptly left Canada, and folded her night clothes in the backpack before synching it closed and swinging it onto her back. “Ready?” She said with false positivity.

He turned his eyes from the streets of Wels and glanced over his shoulder. He wasn’t sure if he would ever get use to her change in appearance; the tight clothes, the short hair, but her eyes were more or less the same; perhaps aged a bit but still that vibrant green he hoped she never lost. He took one last hit of nicotine before stubbing out the bud on the window seal and closed the window behind him. His eyes were imploringly acute. “No matter what happens, we’re still in this together alright? Who knows what we’re about to walk into.”

She nodded and held her hands out for his. “Of course. We’ll always be in this together, but it might not be so bad if we weren’t alone. This is just something that we need to do.”

He desperately hoped she was right, because if she was wrong they were walking into the arms of death with little less than smiles. “Ready when you are.”

She gave him what she hoped was a comforting smile before slowly closing her eyes, only to open them widely a moment later. “Wait,” She whispered and extended onto the tips of her toes to brush her lips with his. It was chaste, because if they attached their lips like they wanted to, they would never leave the room. But with its chastity, came just the bit of reassurance that they both needed. When she returned her feet to the ground, his lips were upturned in an adoring grin and she smiled sheepishly at him before closing her eyes once more.

It was harder to locate the map to Harry from the touch of his finger prints on her skin. It had been over a year since he had touched her and the feeling was almost forgotten. She waded in a smoke filled consciousness of nothing, testing feelers extended to grasp onto the impression his skin had once made like the point of a map. 

Right before Draco was about to suggest that she take a break, she felt the signature of Harry and squeezed her mind around it. Drastically turning on the spot, they left Austria through twisted liquid smoke before, sooner than expected, they dropped through the air in none other than the entry way to the dining room of Malfoy Manor. 

~

It was almost comical, definitely ironic, that searching for Harry would lead them to the very place they had liberated themselves from; to the manor and its’ masters. Neither Ember nor Draco had been expecting to be dumped out into the manor, and in retrospect they should have put in more consideration as to where searching for Harry might have led them, but regardless, it was too late now.

The room was silent as if a maestro had brought a calamity of music to a sudden stop.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were standing off in the far corner towards the back entrance with a petrified Greyback laying at their feet. Their hands were out in a placating gesture of compliance, their bewildered eyes flashing to meet them. 

Bellatrix was in the middle of the room that was void of the usual dining table. Her arm was wrapped around a burned out Hermione Granger, her wand pointed deadly against the girl’s jugular. She jerked Hermione roughly at their entrance, angling her head towards them stiffly. Ember noticed immediately that Hermione’s eyes were red and misty and shuddered to think what Bellatrix had done to her.

Lucius and Narcissa were the last occupants of the room, and the closest to where the couple stood. Narcissa instantly took a step forward, and would have taken all the steps it took to reach her son if not for the visible differences in him and the situation at hand. The situation did nothing to stop her sanguine voice, “Draco!”

While Narcissa’s reaction was shock and warmth, Lucius’s was not so gracious. He had been standing engrossed at the side of the hearth with a glass of red wine held in one hand liberally, as if highly entertained or satisfied by the situation. He turned his icy eyes on them, licking the inside of his cheek languidly. “I’d call you son, but I’m not sure you deserve the title anymore.”

Draco winced as the words hit his ears. It was more of just an inhibited twist in his face, but it was enough for all those present to see. Ember stepped forward, entirely prepared to shield them, drawing Lucius’s attention straight towards her; his real target. “You,” He snarled. “This was entirely your doing.”

She stood to her full height and settled him with the meanest glare she could muster, not able to hold back the slight Malfoy smirk that she had inherited at the corner of her mouth. “You know that’s not true.”

Their intense stare down was interrupted abruptly by an offended Bellatrix. “How in the bloody hell did you two manage to escape The Dark Lord without a trace?” She demanded, still holding Hermione captive. Harry and Ron’s eyes narrowed in their direction bewilderingly.

Lucius reached over and managed to yank up the sleeve of Draco’s leather jacket while their attention had been on Bellatrix. The man stared, mystified at the blank space where the dark mark use to reside. His eyes raced up to his son’s. “How?” 

Draco kept an even gaze with his father before meaningfully glancing over to Ember. All three Death Eaters eyes followed Draco’s gaze and Narcissa let out a small gasp, bringing her small hand to cover her mouth. 

Lucius stalked over to Ember, who in return took three steps back. He scowled at her, nostrils flaring, burning blue fire, seemingly trying to vaporize her through his eyes; but as quick as the approach occurred, he paused. Instead, realizing a different approach, he turned to Draco. “We have Potter. Now you can come home and everything will be as it was.”

“And which way is that?” Ember hissed. She would not have Lucius Malfoy unravel all the hard work Draco had put in, but it seemed that her stern words were not needed.  
Draco shook his head sadly, pityingly and spoke with unwavering courage in the face of his intrinsic demons. “I’m not who you made me out to be.” 

Lucius tilted his head, his mouth parting in what was sure to be a thunderously cruel response, when Bellatrix cut in. “We can handle them later.” She stated rationally before yanking Hermione’s hair back, exposing her vulnerable neck. 

“Bella!” Narcissa chastised, but suddenly words weren’t the currency for attention. The sound of hardware unscrewing paused all conversation as eight pairs of eyes looked up towards the ceiling where a scrawny elf was in the middle of unscrewing the main chandelier, that just so happened to be suspended over Bellatrix and Hermione.

Breaths were caught in lungs as the heavy chain broke and the chandelier began soaring to the ground. Ember, wasting no time, ran towards the pair and tackled her arms around Bellatrix, managing to push Hermione forward into the conveniently waiting arms of Ron. 

Ember and Bellatrix wrestled to the floor, Bellatrix wailing indignantly the entire way down. Harry stooped down next to Greyback, ignoring the werewolf’s narrowed eyes and rumbling growl, and managed to dig two wands out of his pocket before blocking a jinx sent by Narcissa and shouting ‘Stupefy’ at Lucius, managing to catch him in the shoulder and send him flying backwards. 

Draco withdrew his own wand and sealed his father to the floor where he landed for good measure before tromping over to his mother, wrapping his arms restrainingly around her shoulders, and wiggling her wand out of her hands.

Ember finally let Bellatrix’s waist go and ungracefully managed to reach the witches wand before it’s owner. Bellatrix leaped off the ground, prepared to curse her into oblivion, when Ember held her own curved wand up to her eyes threateningly.

Ember looked over at the trio, who had huddled over with the elf. “Go!” She shouted at them, knowing that whatever leverage her and Draco held was fickle at best and that she would be able to find them again.

“You can’t even use that you half-squib.” Bellatrix spat down at her, calling Ember’s nonexistent bluff.

Ember narrowed her eyes before deftly aiming the wand at one of the other hanging chandeliers and shattering it into smithereens. “Try me.” She ground out behind her teeth, daring Bellatrix into submission.

The crazed woman turned on her heel, believing that Ember didn’t have the guts to actual harm her worth a damn, and glared over at the trio who still hadn’t left. “You stupid elf. You could have killed me!” She shouted savagely, advancing on the group slowly despite her lack of wand.

The small elf looked slightly bashful. “Dobby never meant to kill. Dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure.”

“How dare you defy your masters!” She screeched, her hands in fists at her side.

Dobby held his chin up high. “Dobby has no masters. Dobby is a free elf. And Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends.” The elf held his hand out to the trio who quickly linked with them.

Bellatrix, completely ignoring that Ember still had a wand aimed at her, advanced towards the group. She flicked the wand and glued Bellatrix’s feet to the floor and Draco roared, “Go!”

The elf began to twist, but not before Bellatrix whipped out a dagger from her waist and flung it at the group, who, with the familiar crack, vanished from the room.

With the most tense of situations handled, Draco let his mother go and crossed the room to where Ember was awkwardly laying. He helped her up off the floor as Bellatrix, still frozen to the floor, hissed. “You would disown your own family for a girl? Everything we’ve worked for, you dismiss it like a common blood traitor!” She raged as Narcissa began to weep quietly at the scene.

Draco held onto Ember’s forearm to help steady her on her feet, glaring at his aunt. “She’s my family too. And everything we’ve worked for? I remember being the only one to figure out how to get you into fucking Hogwarts and was that ever credited? No. I only remember being punished for things out of my control.”

“Draco…” Narcissa whispered, crestfallen.

Lucius groaned from his spot, recovering quickly, and began to rise.

“No!” His words came out astringent, venom pouring from every syllable. “All you ever cared about is status. You’d sacrifice your own son to You-Know-Who just to save yourselves; to save face. You knew it was a suicide mission and yet none of you did anything!” He screamed so loud that his throat immediately felt swollen; with pain or long hidden emotions, he wasn’t completely sure.

“You should be grateful the Dark Lord decided to give you the honor, yet you weep and moan about being too cowardly to finish the job.” Bellatrix bit back.

“He isn’t a coward.” Ember defended.

“Draco,” His father beseeched, finally settled back on his feet. “We can turn this around. It’s not too late. Don’t throw everything away based on the words of this girl.” He huffed, advancing on the couple, his eyes raging against the small girl who was ruining everything. 

Draco grinned bitterly, squeezing Ember’s arm. “Yes it is. It’s funny that you should blame Ember. You’re the one that put us together; the only good thing you’ve done in years. Then again I’m not surprised; anything to place the blame on someone else right?” 

Getting the hint, Ember twisted and reached her feelers out for Harry. They left Malfoy Manor with nothing but the bitter taste of unsatisfying closure.

~

The first thing Ember heard when her mind unscrambled was the rushing of water. Glancing down to the ground she saw that they were standing on damp beige land. It was formed by tiny little grains collected together, and much like the snow- she couldn’t remember the name of the substance. She met Draco’s equally frazzled eyes briefly before turning and searching for the golden trio. 

They were crumpled against the strange earth twenty paces away. The couple strode over towards them, albeit hesitantly. When they approached, it was to see Harry holding the tiny elf in his arms, weeping. Bellatrix’s dagger laid next to them, soaked in blood.

The pair stopped in their tracks, both sensing the hostile and sentimental moment, and waited patiently to be acknowledged. Draco’s hand came down to grab Ember’s and he squeezed tightly.

Harry’s eyes, wetness still filling the corners, turned to stare up at the new intruders. He didn’t say anything, nor did his face show any of his thoughts, he simply took in their presence. He didn’t question how they found them, didn’t question whether they could be trusted or not, he just stared at them as he cradled Dobby in his arms.

Ron, on the other hand, was not grieving so hard. “What in the bloody hell are you two doing here?” 

Draco’s hold on Ember’s hand became painfully tight. Any words that came out of his mouth would be wrong as he stared down at Hermione resting against the ginger.  
Ember, thankfully, mediated. “We’ve come in hopes of a truce between us. We have information that might help end our common enemy.”

Ron gaped at the little girl with big words. “Why would we believe you?”

“Ronald, not now.” Hermione whispered, exhausted. “They’ve helped us so far. If they hand their wands over, we can sort Dobby out first and interrogate them later.”

Ron glowered but cocked a challenging brow in their direction. He helped Hermione stand before walking towards them and holding his hand out for their wands. Ember immediately handed Bellatrix’s wand over, taking extra precaution to make sure that her fingers glided with his palm to store his touch for a rainy day. 

Draco however, hadn’t moved.

Coming to them was one thing, handing over his wand was another, especially to Weasley. Ember squeezed his hand and he numbly looked over to her. She nodded her head encouragingly and Draco begrudgingly handed his wand over.

Hermione limped her way over to Harry. “Let us help you bury him.”

“No.” The Boy Who Lived stated softly. “I want to do it alone. Properly, without any magic.”

Ember had no idea who this elf was or why he was so important to Harry, but could respect the idea that he needed to grieve in his own way. When she looked over to Draco, she wondered if he needed to grieve too- as if he had known the elf once a long time ago.

They all stood a few feet off as Harry began to dig in the sand with a shovel he procured, again claiming that he needed to do it the muggle way. When the hole was big enough, he carefully placed the elf inside and heavily began to fill the grave. He found a large rock that he used as a headstone and magically carved out: ‘Here lies Dobby. A free elf’.

~

The unlikely group headed back down the slope to the stand alone cottage, the golden trio leading the way. Ember and Draco silently followed, hands still clasped together, hopes still resting on the decision of one distraught boy, as nothing more than an afterthought of the evening. 

When they got to the shell cottage, a tall handsome man with red hair and ragged scars running down half his face met them. The scars were angled and deep, and looked as if they had healed over months ago but still had the power to cause vivid pain. The resemblance between the man and Ron was uncanny and Ember knew that he must be a Weasley. A smaller, beautiful, woman stood next to him and she gasped when she saw the state that Hermione was in and moved forward to gather her and take her away from the group and back into the cottage.

“She’ll be okay, Bill.” Ron stated not at all convincingly at the man, Bill’s, arched brow.

Bill looked over the rest of the group with careful eyes. They narrowed at the unmistakable blonde hair that belonged to none other than the Malfoys’. “Why have you brought Draco Malfoy?” He asked, calmly hostile.

Harry sighed, glancing back at Draco before regarding Bill. “We still need to figure that bit out. We have their wands, they should be harmless and could be useful.”

Bill staring at his brother, ground out from behind his teeth, “You’ve compromised this location.”

Harry took a step closer to the towering man. “You’ll have to trust me on this Bill. I’ll make sure that it’s as safe as it can be.”

The conviction behind his words proved enough confirmation for Bill and enough of a threat to Ember that she swallowed thickly. Draco, who at first met the eyes of their host, now only glanced at the wooden floor boards.

“Now,” Harry huffed out. “I need to speak with Griphook and Ollivander.”

How many people are in this small cottage, Ember thought disconcertedly, unaware that the selfless elf had saved more than just the golden trio.

“They’re both too weak, Harry.” Bill protested.

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” Harry said without heat.

Bill let out a deep breath but nodded reluctantly. Ember studied the exchange critically, deeply interested in the dynamic that Harry Potter wielded. 

The dark haired boy then turned around to the strange couple, eyeing their hands still clasped for a terse moment before looking back at their faces. “Once I’m done with them, we’ll talk.”

Ember nodded understandingly for the both of them. Harry, with Ron, turned to follow Bill up a steep staircase just off the open sitting room. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and looked up to see Draco’s paler than usual face. His eyes were unfocused, no longer staring at the ground but instead staring at the chipped pieces of paint in the wood of the stairs. His lips were chapped and in an unusual thin line. She was about to say something, anything, to get him to engage her, but she heard her name from an unlikely voice, drawing her attention.

“Ember?”

The brunette turned and her eyes fell onto none other than Luna Lovegood. The eccentric witch was dressed in a pair of purple overalls over a pink sweater. Her long blonde hair drawn into a low pony tail. Her face was ashen and her lower lip was split open, but it didn’t deter her from smiling serenely at her.

“Luna?” Ember questioned, astonished, immediately walking the few paced to pull the girl into a friendly hug. She was overjoyed to see her friend, the only true friend she had made on her own, and whom she thought she would never get the chance to see again. She pulled back with a grin, still holding onto one slim hand. “What are you doing here?”

Luna smiled her simple smile. “Our elf friend Dobby saved us from,” Her speech slowed and her calm exterior hardened into unconvinced hesitance as she glanced to Draco over Ember’s shoulder. “Malfoy Manor.”

“You were there?” There was never any inclination that her and Draco had arrived in the midst of the second act; never thought that the elf had already made a rescue mission that she now assumed this Griphook and Ollivander were a part of. “Where were you…” Ember trailed off. She knew exactly where they had been kept.

She turned back to look at her husband who with each passing second looked as if he was going to become sick. “Did you know?” She whispered, too caught up in the coincidences to give him the benefit of the doubt.

He didn’t take the bland accusation to heart, and only shook his head.

Ember turned back to her friend. “How long have you been at the Manor?”

“Since just before Christmas.” Luna answered and Ember let out a relieved sigh. She would never have been able to forgive herself if Luna had been held captive underneath Ember’s nose.

With the timing of the situation settled, Ember became more perplexed at the cause. 

“But why?”

“My father kept publishing warnings of the Death Eaters in the Quibbler. To warn the public of their infiltration in the Ministry. They captured me on the Hogwarts Express on my way home.” Luna suddenly stopped, looking once again over Ember’s shoulder at the impassive Draco still lingering in the shadows of the entry way. Ember heard the subtle noise of the front door closing; the defining click sending a jolt of worry through her heart.

She turned just in time to see Draco racking his hands through his hair in the window off the side of the house. She frowned, debating on going out to him, but decided that it would be best to give him a moment. He had had more than a rough few hours, and no doubt would have a few more ahead of him.

“Where have you been?” Luna acquired, keeping a wayward glance at the door Draco had just left through, stealing back Ember’s attention. “You didn’t return to school and my letters kept rerouting back to me.” 

Ember’s heart equally warmed and froze at the thought that Luna had tried to write her. She licked her parched lips. “It’s rather a long story. Draco and I were stuck at Malfoy Manor until the fall. We’ve been traveling since then, avoiding the Death Eaters.”

She expected Luna to inquire as to why she was with Draco in the first place; instead, Luna leaned in with overly wide eyes and asked, “But isn’t he a Death Eater?”

Sighing deeply, a pain throbbed in Ember’s heart. “He never wanted to be.” She explained. “And he isn’t any longer.” She didn’t feel the need to mention that she wasn’t one anymore either. “We’re here to help Harry. If he’ll listen.”

Luna nodded, that everlasting serene peace only partially dimmed her features. “I’m glad that you are alright.”

Ember smiled brightly. “I’m glad that I got to see you again Luna.” She squeezed the hand that she was still holding.


	38. The Judgement

“My past has tasted bitter for years now, so I wield an iron fist. Grace is just weakness, or so I’ve been told. I’ve been cold, I’ve been merciless; but the blood on my hands scares me to death. Maybe I’m waking up today.”  
-Jaymes Young, I’ll Be Good

Draco couldn’t stand the distrustful looks. He understood them, deserved them, but couldn’t quite take the rush of undiluted shame that followed them. So he took himself out of the equation and sat alone on the bench by the front door of the cottage, smoking a cigarette like it was his only saving grace.

To know that his childhood home had jailed not only himself and Ember, but had captured lives needlessly and thrown them into their cellar; was nauseating. When Ember had found the cellar all those months ago and accused it of being a dungeon…turns out she hadn’t been so far off and had only been foreshadowing what it would come to be. 

But that wasn’t the only reason why he subjugated himself to the bench. His father had looked at him as if he was a ghost; no less disappointing, just less material. Lucius had placed in the key that had always turned Draco’s thoughts back in line with his only to find that the gears had been changed. This time, he had snapped back like a viper and his parents had the audacity to blame Ember.

Sure, she was a big part of it. She had pushed him to resurface when he hadn’t known he had been drowning in falsities. False promises, false beliefs, false praise. And now as he stood on the opposite side of the looking glass, he was branded a traitor by both offended parties. 

Draco was no idiot. There was no way he could right all the wrongs of seven years. He wasn’t sure if he should even try. It would be so easy to drift away from this situation, so easy to pretend like none of this mattered. He could go far away, way up into the uninhabited North and try to live his days in peace, but he knew that peace would not find him. His sense of peace was carried inside the heart of a small girl with the courage of a lion and she would stay in the face of this hardship. But it wasn’t just her that kept his feet from pounding the pavement.

His world had been cracked and shattered to reveal nothing more than beautiful landscapes covering egregious wrongs, and now that the hoax was up the world that he wanted to be a part of was being threatened with extinction. All his new dreams, that were little more than seedlings, didn’t yet have the wingspan to take off. This was the problem of dreams in the face of adversity, it is so much easier to snuff them out before they take hold. To ignore them is to resign yourself to the land of what if, where you live blandly and wait for differences. But any dream is only worth living if you have the strength to pursue it and fight for it.

So he would stay and perhaps they would cast him out, as they should, or send him back to the Death Eaters, but he would stay knowing that in the end, when no one thought he could, he had aligned himself with the good and had tried to redeem whatever there was left of him.

He heard the door open and looked up from his fingers to find Ember gazing at him with and understanding look. “Are you going to be okay?” She asked softly as if her voice was touching glass.

She was always perceptive and had grown out of those awkward naïve stages that came with her as a side-effect of her upbringing. He appreciated that she hadn’t asked if he was okay, because of course he wasn’t, but asked if he was going to be okay; as if he was still going to have a future to look forward to.

He tried to give her a convincing smile, but she easily saw through it. Taking the few steps to him she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into her torso as if whatever courage she had could be pressed into him. 

Sighing, he sunk into her embrace, wrapping her tightly in his own, breathing in her comforting scent. They stayed like that for minutes, just breathing each other in and listening to the water lapping against the banks, pausing in the whirlwind, completely unaware of the eyes watching them through the front window.

“Harry’s ready for us.” She eventually informed. “They’re making a bonfire in the back.”

~

It was strange to be sure. Three best friends, three practical strangers, two once enemies, two awkward acquaintances, and a married couple. It was the start to a bad joke. Yet, there they all sat around a roaring fire pit as the sun began to sink over the water. No one knew where to start, and so silence, besides the crackling of the fire, surrounded them in numb thoughts.

That was until Ron spoke up, his voice heavy with distrust. “Why should we trust anything either of you says? Malfoy’s always been a fowl git and no offense princess but you’ve been fickle and keeping company with the enemy.”

“I don’t want to be your enemy anymore.” Draco whispered, drawing his eyes from the fire and locking gazes with Ron.

“I understand- we understand your hostility,” Ember mediated. “We have nothing to hide and we’d be happy to answer any of your questions. We only want to help.” She pulled the sleeves of Draco’s shirt over her thumbs, the only action that showed her nerves. “I know based on our previous interaction that that might be hard to believe. We’ve been on our own for months; and well, we’ve recently discovered information that might help defeat You-Know-Who.”

Harry sat patiently with the world on his shoulders. His eyes showed his mental exhaustion, but he remained unmoved, elbows on his knees, his chin resting on a fist. Hermione next to him had her eyes narrowed inquisitively at the pair but kept her prim lips together, drawing the blanket that Fleur had given her tighter over her shoulders.

Ember’s thoughts stumbled as they did not look the least bit moved. She expected that it was a good sign they hadn’t drawn wands on them- yet. She swallowed before trying again. “At the end of summer, when you were at Grimmauld Place, did you receive an anonymous letter telling you to leave?” 

Hermione tilted her head slowly, blinking rapidly. “How do you know any of that?”

“She’s the one that sent it.” Draco said, his voice monotone.

All three unfamiliar pairs of eyes shifted solely on the girl who they’d only ever seen next to Snape or Draco; their eyes questioning, their lips pursed, and shoulders tensed.

Ember looked to the fire. “The night we left the manor,” She began in a surprisingly strong voice despite the emotion that was crawling up her throat. “Was the night before they were planning on raiding Grimmauld Place and um specifically killing you.” She glanced back up only to get caught in Harry’s green eyes staring at her unwaveringly. “The information had been leaked that you were sheltering there.” She paused, glanced at an emotionless Draco, before continuing, “At that point we were ready to leave, not that we ever really wanted to stay there. We wanted no part in this war, but we had to warn you. So I sent the letter in hopes that you would heed it.”

The silence was silently killing Ember as she waited for their judgement, none of their faces giving anything away.

“We did.” Hermione finally responded gravely, “Only a few hours before they attacked.”

Ember nodded, cracking a half smile, hoping this was a step in the right direction.

“You were a Death Eater.” Harry stated plainly to Draco. It was a fact previously unrevealed, but now was very common knowledge. “I saw the mark last year. Why is it gone?”

“Because I’m not one anymore.” Draco said evenly, eyes smoldering into Harry’s.

“But how is it gone? It’s dark magic, you can’t just spell it away.” Hermione added with narrowed eyes.

Draco turned to look at Ember, which caused all of them to look at her. She shrunk underneath their gazes, nibbling on her bottom lip. “That would be because of me.”

Another mentally staggering pause followed the confession.

“How do you fit into this equation?” Ron asked, miffed. “You literally popped up out of nowhere last year.”

“And were given special treatment.” Hermione added bluntly. “No one just becomes an apprentice of Snape’s at fifteen.”

“It’s a rather long explanation.” Ember explained, floundering underneath their severe criticism.

“You said we could ask anything.” Harry reminded them, straightening his spine and setting them with a challenging look.

“We’re um- My um…”Draco started, lost on how to go about the explanation as to how they ended up here. He sighed, frustrated. “What I mean to say is we were married before the start of term last year.”

Ember couldn’t decide if that was a good place to start or not, but at least it was a starting point, and she latched onto it. “You see, our parents arranged our marriage with an unbreakable vow before I was born. With the state of the ministry, the betrayal of my parents, and the looming war; they tried to marry us behind You-Know-Who’s back. He found out and married us himself.”

“I don’t believe that.” Ron scoffed, shaking his head disbelievingly.

Ember huffed and showed her the inside of her index finger that had Draco’s name engraved. She elbowed Draco until he revealed it’s pair. 

“So it’s a dark marriage.” Hermione surmised.

“He tried to execute me before he married us. Everyone thought that I was a squib, but when he was torturing me…” She trailed off, almost lost in the memory: an extremely rare case for her.

“She just started glowing.” Draco finished. “It was remarkable. All of her pain stopped and she just absorbed the curses. It made her valuable. So he married us, and when we went back to Hogwarts he tasked Snape to help figure out the extent of her abilities.”

“I remember you glowing…when you healed him.” Harry said, briefly meeting Draco’s eyes before shifting them to hers.

“Yes.” She answered. “Snape and I figured out that I’m sort of the embodiment of a patronus. It makes me a shield and gives me the ability to heal.”

“How did Dumbledore ever allow this?” Ron vented, leaning back, embittered.

Everyone pretended to ignore the sharp jerk Draco gave at the name. Well not so much with their eyes, but they didn’t bring that topic on to the silver platter at the present moment.

“Dumbledore trusted Snape. They created false test scores for me, and I do have the basic knowledge of a normal witch. Usually I can use a wand just like any of you. I’m just different, reasons unknown.”

Harry flinched at the mention of Snape, not unlike Draco. Yet unlike Draco’s unfocused gaze at the fire, Harry’s eyes turned into ignited embers. “What information do you have for us?”

Draco was the one who answered, his eyes still set of the flames. “Do any of you know about horcruxes?”

The golden trio froze. What had started as a conversation that none of the trio expected to hold much weight had drifted into seriously uncharted territory. Horcruxes weren’t something just anyone knew. They had spent the entire year searching for them, all upon Dumbledore’s request.

“How do you know about them?” Ron asked sharply, his own usually warm eyes freezing under the tension.

“My mother told us about them. She was with You-Know-Who when he created one of them.” She glanced at their fire lit faces sincerely. “Ravenclaw’s lost diadem to be specific.”

Ron’s jaw dropped and Hermione took in a sharp intake immediately looking to Harry who was sizing up Ember’s words carefully. “What do you two know about the horcruxes?” He asked suspiciously.

“The very basics.” Draco started, before being rudely interrupted by Ron.

“Hold up a minute.” He said exasperatedly, waving his hands. “Why was your mother a part of forming a horcrux?”

Ember fiddled with the cloth over her thumbs, and told them the secrets kept from her. “My parents were Death Eaters, just like the Malfoys. My father was extremely gifted with charms which is originally why he was recruited. My mother was lumped in the second or third wave of recruits. My father saw things differently than You-Know-Who, not better, just differently. He was particularly good at-“ Ember paused and swallowed thickly. For so long no one else had known about this side of things that it felt almost blasphemous to spill it out. Draco reached out and squeezed her knee. “Memory charms.” She finished with a gulp. “So Tom use to bring him on specific missions to help memory wipe witnesses, a lot of them revolved around horcruxes. Tom wanted a horcrux from every house of Hogwarts that held significance. From Ravenclaw he wanted the diadem. He found out that it was hidden in the hollow of a tree in Albania; only problem was that Helena Ravenclaw cast protective spells over it so that only a Ravenclaw would be able to unriddle it from the hollow before she was murdered. 

“My mother was the only sworn Ravenclaw Death Eater. So, her and my father were both brought in on the mission. My father wanted to defect, and when Tom entrusted him, them, to hide the horcrux, my father stole it instead. He tried for years to destroy it but eventually ended up chucking it into the Caspian Sea. When You-Know-Who died, they went back to retrieve it, but it was gone.”

Harry licked his lips, not nearly as enthused as she expected him to be. “Is that all the information you have?”

“Is that not enough?” Ember countered, gazing at the trio one by one. “No,” She deduced. “You already knew about the horcruxes.”

“We don’t know what every horcrux is.” Hermione interjected somewhat soothingly. “The lost diadem of Ravenclaw does help.” She whispered pityingly.

“Oh yeah,” Ron said sarcastically. “Great, we can cross Caspian Sea off the list. Thanks for the tip, you can get lost now.”

“Ronald.” Hermione huffed, not at all amused.

Draco whispered something so low that even Ember couldn’t hear him. He cleared his throat and gazed at all of them. “I know where it is.”

“What?” They all, including Ember, asked with bewilderment.

He licked the inside of his cheek and repeated, “I know where the diadem is. I know exactly where it is.”

“Where?”

“The Room of Requirement. More exactly, the Room of Hidden Things.”

The trio, who had perked up at the more provoking information, mostly sagged underneath the knowledge of the location. 

“You didn’t tell me that.” Ember whispered, the betrayal she felt evident in the near quiver of her voice.

He looked at her defeatedly. “I didn’t realize I knew it until this morning and we had enough to worry about.”

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, standing up from the piece of driftwood. “Now you really can leave.”

“Not quite.” Harry nearly bemoaned.

The ghost of Draco’s once malicious smirk, pulled at the corner of his lips as he gazed at the ginger. “I take it you’ve never been in the Room of Hidden Things.”

Ron scowled at him, but sat back down and nonetheless shut up.

“And you know exactly where it is?” Hermione reaffirmed.

“I spent all of last year locked inside that room. I know exactly where it is. If you want to take the chance to find it yourselves, be my guest.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Fine, you’ll be helping us to find the diadem.” He firmly decided, neglecting the jaw dropping of one Ronald Weasley, and sighed. “Then we’ll need to figuring out how to get back to Hogwarts.” 

“I can help with that.” Ember piped up to the surprise of everyone.

“Em,” Draco whispered cautiously.

“How?” Hermione demanded.

“I…I need your help first.” Ember admitted, looking pointedly at Harry, seeing the opportunity she never thought she’d have.

He leaned forward, full attention on the small girl who was now shifting in her seat.

“I’ve stumbled on a new way to travel. It’s how we found you at the manor, and then again how we found you here. I can locate anyone, anywhere, if I’ve touched them in the past.”

“That’s- well that’s just ridiculous.” Hermione negated, her eyes blazing with mixed ire.

Ron shrugged. “It does explain how they found the cottage and got around the secret keeper aspect of it all.”

“I know it’s odd and I don’t have an explanation for you, but it does come in handy.” She shook her head distractedly. “Anyway, I can’t locate You-Know-Who. I believe it’s because I haven’t touched his true body and well Draco mentioned that you had been to Tom Riddle Senior’s grave at the end of the Triwizard Tournament…”

“You told her that?” Harry quipped, a thick brow arched at the blonde. It had been such an ordeal once upon a time, that no one had believed such an occurrence.

“Did you also tell her about becoming a ferret?” Ron derided, causing all of the trio to laugh lightly.

“What?” Ember gasped out with a ridiculously luminescent smile.

It was the first time any of them had seen Draco Malfoy’s ears turn pink as he glared without any heat at the lot of them. “Later,” He remarked bluntly with a resigned sigh.  
“There is no known location of Tom Riddle’s grave. Would you be able to give me coordinates?”

“Why do you want to go? What to dig up his grave?” Ron asked, aggrieved.

“Precisely.” She answered evenly. “I believe that if I can touch his bones, the ones used to resurrect him, then I can locate him. He doesn’t know I can do this. In fact, no one but Draco knows that I can do this. I’ll be able to know where he is whenever.”

Ron whistled lowly. “That’s faster than your mind connection, mate. Albeit disturbing.”

“How does that help us get into Hogwarts?” Hermione asked, streamlining the conversation back to the original point.

“Once I have His touch secured, I can distract Snape while you slip in. He’ll be the greatest opponent in getting into Hogwarts surely.”

“And how are you going to distract Snape, Em?” Draco asked. His eyes were scrunched together in a tell-tale sign that he knew he wasn’t going to like the answer.

She looked at him unamused by his doubt. “You don’t think he’s going to be interested in seeing me after the way we left things? Trust me, I’ll be able to distract him. He’ll be curious enough to know how we got around the dark marks.”

“He could capture you.” Harry inputted. 

Ember regarded him evenly. “I know of your past with Snape and I understand it, but Snape and I have a different relationship than any of you do here. He wouldn’t just cast me back to You-Know-Who. I trust him.”

“Then you’re a fool.” Ron stated plainly.

She shook her head at him abruptly with a slight glare at his doubt. “Then let me be a fool. It will still give you the distraction.” Her eyes shifted, softened, to Harry. “Can you help me with the grave?”

His eyes scrutinized her. “It’s a cemetery in Little Hangleton.”

“Thank you.” She said earnestly.

“Come on,” Ron said standing up once more. “Let’s all get some sleep. We can formulate the details tomorrow.” He helped Hermione off the driftwood and kept an arm around her shoulders. He looked to the two Malfoy’s who had made no move to leave the fire pit. “You two as well. Not going to leave you out here to freeze.” He said it nonchalantly, but still rolled his eyes.


	39. The Camp at Shell Cottage

“Last year, I needed change of pace; couldn’t take the pace of change, moving hastily. But this year, though I’m far from home, in trench I’m not alone.”  
-Twenty One Pilots, Leave the City

The exhaustion was tangible at Shell Cottage the following morning. White light filtered in through the open windows, letting the salty sea breeze mingle through the air. Everyone, besides the still recovering Ollivander and Griphook, were sat around the white table that separated the kitchen from the sitting room. Coffee and tea with whipped up pastries were passed around. 

Harry was in conversation with Bill concerning the happenings of the Order on one end; Fleur was bustling around the kitchen, stepping into the conversation when her input was needed. Ember and Luna were whispering with little smiles on the other. Hermione and Ron had their heads bowed together and it wasn’t the first time Draco wondered when the two had gotten so close. It was the first time he felt completely outcasted, sitting in the middle of the table glancing at the tea that sat before him distractedly.

Hermione brought her arm up to rest on the table, palm up, and rolled her sleeve up to her elbow. Ron’s fingers gently brushed along her forearm underneath the scarring word, mudblood.

Draco found it hard to swallow. Something that had been such a fixture in his upbringing, that he had never questioned as being harmful, had been carved into her skin for her, and everyone else, to always see. His mouth soured, for he knew who had put it there. His stomach turned under the weight of the word he had so carelessly thrown around in his youth. “Em,” He croaked out, causing all conversation to cease.

Ember’s smile slowly diminished as she looked to him before following his eyes to Hermione’s arm. The light conversation with Luna completely forgotten as she immediately understood him. She shifted into the open seat next to Hermione, all eyes following her. Timidly, not wanting to step into something she had no business stepping into, she reached her hands out before meeting the warm brown eyes of the witch. “I can heal that, if you’d like.” She offered softly.

Ron’s eyes lit up at her words, but Hermione’s were conflicted. She was not afraid of the word, but to have something so vile etched into her skin, put there by such horrid events was a memory she would rather not have to remember every time she looked at her own skin. Without a word, she laid her arm in Ember’s open palms.

Ember gave a sweet, encouraging smile, and dropped her eyes to the horrendous word. Subtly, she took in a deep breath through her nose, incredibly aware that all eyes were cast on her, and extended her patronus onto Hermione’s arm.

Eyes widened across the table as the girl no one ever gave a second glance to hands glowed a luminescent blue. The word mudblood slowly erased, like backwards penmanship. When the skin was clear of any defamation, Ember retracted her patronus. Hermione brought her arm back to her for closer examination.

Her brown eyes met Ember’s with great appreciation and she whispered in awe, “Thank you.”

“That is incredible.” Fleur remarked with her heavy French accent, looking over the table from the shoulder of her husband.

And as Ember briefly explained herself to the newly wedded Weasley’s, Hermione looked across the table to Draco; knowing that it had been by his suggestion that Ember fix her scar. He met her eyes with no malice, no ill-will, and no typical smirk. It struck her, that this was a Draco she didn’t know. He was barely there, quietly keeping to himself as if that would retract the fact that even though things had been smoothed over, his presence wasn’t exactly wanted. She mouthed thank you sincerely. His reply was a small smile before glancing back down at the table and continuing to run his index finger along the lip of his tea cup.

Once breakfast was over, the golden trio shrunk away to the alcove and quietly conversed amongst themselves before Fleur came back down the stairs. “Harry, Griphook would like to speak with you.”

Harry looked to his best friends. “He must have reached his decision.” He pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against and glanced over into the sitting room where Draco and Ember were speaking quietly. “Keep an eye on that.” He told them meaningfully before ascending the steep steps.

Ron nodded while Hermione frowned. She understood that it would be wise to not turn a blind eye on the newly reformed Malfoy’s, but she also had the inherent gut feeling that there really was no need to be so hostile around them any longer. Ember had proved nothing more than the sweet, kind-hearted, shy girl Hermione had pinned her to be the year before. Sure, she was entirely powerful in an unexpected way, but dangerous to them- no. Draco so far had given them no reason besides the long standing history to doubt his intentions.

As Hermione looked over at the couple, she had to remind herself that they had been forced to marry. They fit together seamlessly. Draco’s rough edges smoothed around her, as if she had softened him somehow. His tense shoulder would relax and he would unconsciously reach for her whenever she was near. And she, this entirely sweet creature, looked up at him as if he was the only light in her life. Not in a way that she thought he hung the moon, it was obvious that she did not dismiss his faults, but rather that he had become her center all the same despite all his past.

She glanced to Ron next to her and wondered if they would ever have that type of connection. Ron had his moments, but intellectual, underlying romantic gestures, much yet intimacy, were not his strong suit. “I still don’t know about them.” He muttered after Harry had left.

She looked back to the sitting room. “They’ve proven helpful so far.”

“In a ‘you already know most of this’ kind of way.” He scoffed, taking a long sip of the coffee he had brought from the kitchen.

She glared at him. “They didn’t know we already knew. They risked their safety in trying to find us and inform us. Which they knew was more or less a fool’s errand.”

He shrugged. “Big deal.”

Hermione huffed and turned on her heel, leaving a slacked jaw Ron, and made her way into the sitting room and around the back of the patchwork couch the couple were sitting on. She noticed that Draco was spinning a lone cigarette in his fingers, eyes barely flickering up to acknowledge her. Ember was tucked against the arm of the couch, her body turned towards him, one of her hands clutching softly at his arm.

“You know those will kill you.” Hermione said factually as she sat down in the adjacent chair.

Ember’s green eyes flew to her in surprise and abject horror. Draco only laughed dryly. “Guess it’s a good thing this is my last one then huh?” He said self-deprecatingly.

Hermione frowned at his depressing tone before meeting Ember’s eyes. “You didn’t know?” She sussed.

The younger brunette shook her head, shoulders shrinking in on herself slightly. She winced under the knowledge that she had substituted one addiction for another because she had thought this would be healthier. She hadn’t expected that this vice was capable of killing him. She instantly felt cold and dreadful, knowing she had initiated such exposure. 

Draco pocketed the offending cigarette and placed his hand on Ember’s thigh comfortingly. “It’s alright Em.”

She shook her head sadly. “No, it’s not.” Then, knowing what a dark place he had been in, questioned, “Did you know?”

He shrugged slightly and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I had a feeling.”

Her frowned deepened and tears glassed over her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She whispered, her bottom lip trembling. He sighed despairingly, kissing the wrinkle on her forehead; something he never would have done in front of an audience before. “Stop it.” He insisted, leaning down until he caught her eyes. “You didn’t know.”

“Where have you been all these months?” Hermione asked, awkwardly interrupting their moment.

“Canada mostly.” Ember answered, the corner of her lips still turned down in a frown.

“And Italy, then Albania.” Draco elaborated, leaning further back into the couch, but choosing to keep his hand on Ember’s thigh. 

“Why Canada?”

“We didn’t have anywhere to apparate to that was out of Europe. Em found a post card of Ottawa; it was enough to apparate.” Draco explained.

“That’s brilliant.”

Ember shrugged modestly, just as Luna stepped back into the room carrying a small radio in her hands. “Bill let me borrow this.” She explained as she sat on the floor and placed her finding on the table tuning it to Potterwatch. 

Ron at this point walked into the room and sat himself down on the arm of Hermione’s chair.

“What is that?” Ember asked innocently.

Both Ron and Hermione gave her a confused glance.

“It’s a radio, sweetheart.” Draco explained, whispering down to her gently.

She looked up at their questioning expressions and blushed before lowering her eyes to her lap, embarrassed. Draco squeezed her thigh reassuringly.

Suddenly there was a bang on the front door, turning everyone’s heads. Luna turned down the volume of the radio. Hermione grabbed onto Ron’s sleeve. Draco’s hands tensed on Ember’s leg and Ember found that she was holding her own breath. Bill came from the front hallway, his wand pointed at the door, Ron and Hermione stood up, doing the same. Harry, halfway down the stairs, drew Bellatrix’s wand at his side.

“Remus John Lupin!” Came from the other side of the door. “Werewolf, husband of Nymphadora Tonks, and you William Arthur Weasley gave me the address and wished me to come in an emergency.”

Bill deflated, looking over at his crowded sitting room. “It’s only Lupin.” He muttered, reaching for the door as Harry finished climbing down the stairs.

Draco immediately stood up from the couch, pulling Ember up with him and placing her behind him. He could only imagine what Professor Lupin, original member of the Order of the Phoenix, would do when he realized that the golden trio was fraternizing with a Malfoy- reformed or otherwise. “We should go.”

Bill looked to Harry, who was staring almost unbelievingly at Draco. “No, we’ll handle this.” Harry looked to Bill and nodded astutely. 

The eldest Weasley opened the door to a grinning Lupin and stepped aside to welcome him in. Remus Lupin was not one to smile overtly. In the past years his eerie charisma had nearly vanished in replace of deep calculations, but that day stepping into Shell Cottage, he looked nearly ten years younger; not even the grey in his hair pulled away from the electric smile that spread across his face.

Bill closed the door, as Lupin’s eyes swept the room. His grin widened, if possible, when he realized that Harry, Ron and Hermione were still at the cottage. But his happiness stilled and shifted expertly to guarded when he noticed the unmistakable Malfoy hair. Imperceptibly fast, he drew his wand, pointing it dangerously at Draco, who, to his credit, didn’t move or act offended; he didn’t even reach for his wand. It was still held captive by Hermione, but his instincts didn’t even have him reach for it. 

“Remus, it’s alright.” Harry explained placatingly. “There’s no need for that.”

Remus turned his neck to glance at Harry, but never removed his wand from Draco. “How could you say that Harry? Why is he even here?”

Luna, surprisingly, was the one to move and stand in front of Draco and a still partially hidden Ember. “He is here because he is a friend. They are friends and they are helping.”

The ex-professor glanced bewildered at the short Ravenclaw that stood determinedly in front of the tall ex-Death Eater with a strong resolve. It might have been the most words Lupin had ever heard from the girl that didn’t contain the words wrackspurts or nargles.

He turned back to Harry. “Is this true?”

Harry nodded. “They are helping.”

“They?” 

Ember swallowed roughly, peeking around Draco’s arm. Remus’s eyes narrowed as she stepped around her husband and out into the open for the former professor to evaluate.   
“Who are you?”

“My name is Ember.” She stated in the strongest voice she could muster, laughing somewhere in the recesses of her mind that this man was giving her more anxiety than Voldemort had the last time she had seen him. 

“Last name.” He demanded.

Ember looked up to Draco, who was still keeping an even eye with the older werewolf, before looking back at the man who very vaguely looked familiar. “Malfoy.”

Remus inclined his head further, not completely shaken by the last name but guessing there was something more to this girl. “Née Knight,” She added after a moment in his unwavering gaze.

He immediately straightened as if hit with an electric shock. “You’re Olivia’s daughter?”

Ember, not knowing what to say, simply nodded mutely. As if that was the answer he had been looking for, as if that made it all okay, he lowered his wand completely before eyeing Draco, still behind Luna, then returning his gaze back to Harry. “Let us talk in private in that case. I have exciting news.”

Harry nodded and Bill led them in to the back room; Ron, Fleur, and Hermione following them, the latter shooting the remaining occupants a small sympathetic smile.

The second they were out of sight, Draco’s shoulder slumped and he reached a hand to his forehead. Luna turned around, shooting a supportive glance at the couple. Draco sighed, before looking down at the blonde. “Thank you Luna.”

She gave a smile in understanding. Draco squeezed Ember’s hand before reaching into his pocket. “I need some air,” He stated before walking across the room and out the back door as the sounds of cheers came from the back room.

~

Fifteen minutes later they all returned from the back of the house, smiles brightening up their faces. Whatever had transpired through the back room had them all come to some sort of understanding.

“Where’s Malfoy?” Ron asked, noticing the blonde was nowhere to be seen.

“He’s outside. He needed a minute.” Ember answered, her eyes flickering over the trio to the older occupants. She was intimidated by Bill and Fleur, not to mention Lupin. These were members of the Order of the Phoenix. And yes she had cultivated that coming and informing Harry was the right thing to do, but it was a different matter when the Order was directly involved. She assumed that they might be, but they unsettled her more than the Death Eaters did. Or perhaps more isn’t the right description. Death Eaters- they were predictably unpredictable, the Order of the Phoenix wouldn’t simply curse her for a difference of opinion, though they very well could, the Order would judge her silently as if they were God and could assign consequences that varied in severity. 

They all sat back in the sitting room, opposite to where Luna and Ember sat, sitting on the ground in front of the fire. All attention was focused on her and she once again shrunk, feeling far more vulnerable than just a minute ago.

“I know that you haven’t known him long,” Harry started persuasively. “But can you give us some insight on this transformed Draco?”

The fact that she hadn’t known Draco very long was unsettlingly erroneous; almost laughable. Maybe she hadn’t had him in her life as long as anyone in the room, but she knew him better than anyone ever could. She glanced out the back window, as if she could see him, and sighed before meeting every pair of eyes on her. 

“The past years haven’t been kind,” She started with a heavy breath. “I know that in the past he’s been an entitled bully, among other things, but things changed after the Department of Mysteries debacle. That was just before I was brought to Malfoy Manor. Everything was strained when I walked into the picture. Suddenly, Draco was being punished for his father’s failures; although he didn’t quite see it for what it was at the time.

“You-Know-Who decided that he should give an impossible task to a seventeen year old boy to shame his father. He wasn’t given any help, not that he would have taken it. He was proud, too proud, to be the youngest Death Eater and handed such a severely detrimental task.

“The consequences of failure were substantial. He was going to kill them all if Draco failed, or so he had led us to believe. Draco couldn’t see that he had other choices. He couldn’t see that there was another way. Last year was hell. He had this stupid notion that he had to prove himself. Which has me believing that he deep down knew that it was all a farce, that no one really believed that he could go through with it. He wouldn’t take help from Snape, much to his disdain. He wouldn’t take much help from me.

“It took me awhile to figure it out that he wasn’t trying to prove himself to the Death Eaters or to You-Know-Who. He was always just trying to prove himself to his father. He was wasted on wanting the approval of a man that is nothing more than an manipulative, verbally abusive, tyrant. 

“After what happened at Hogwarts, he just kind of gave up. In the eyes of everyone around him, except for me, he was a failure for not murdering Dumbledore. He was just waiting, wasting the days, to be punished. And when the punishment finally did come, it was an afterthought- which in some ways made it worse. I think he finally realized where his parents priorities laid.

“For me, well I couldn’t stay there any longer. I have nothing in this world besides Draco, but I was going to leave whether he would come with me or not. But he did come. He made that decision to leap with me into the unknown without any guarantees. He quite literally turned his back on everything he’s ever known to live like a muggle for nine months. This is difficult for him, to be back, because I think it makes him look on his life choices through a double sided mirror. He doesn’t know where he stands and the repressed guilt is tearing through him.”

She took a long breath, biting on the inside of her lip, before continuing. “I know he was horrible to you. And he knows that too. He’s trying and that’s all he can do at this point. We both had blind faith that you wouldn’t kill us on sight. He doesn’t expect this to reform or redeem himself in your eyes. He’s doing this because we need Him gone just as bad as you do.”

Lupin leaned forward. Gone was any of the happiness that had brightened his features and all that was left was concentrated skepticism. “What have you been doing all this time?” He inclined his head towards the trio. “They’ve explained to me about your extraordinary gift and that you were allowed to attend Hogwarts under the guise of Snape’s apprentice. Why?”

She worried that it would come to this. She didn’t want to leave out her part in the happenings, but she was concerned on how they would take her tale. Whether she wanted to or not, she was more directly linked to the recent effects of the Death Eater agenda then Draco was.

“You-Know-Who wanted Snape to train me, because he thought that I would be useful.” It seemed as if all the air had been sucked out of the room, all noise transparent. She persevered. “He initiated me that December, but I wasn’t really used until this past summer when he started raiding Order safe houses. He had me accompany them and if anyone opposed him, he would use me as a shield. Not that he really needs a shield. I think he liked the idea of me possibly not shielding myself in time, which did happen on occasion.

“I’m not proud of whatever part I played. Hearing about the plan to assassinate Harry on top of Draco’s punishment- it was the final straw. I had to warn you and then get as far away as I could. If I couldn’t heal the dark marks we wouldn’t have stood a chance. It turns out Greyback has been hunting us down most of the time he wasn’t hunting you.”

Her words hung in the air, eyes cast down from the introspective gazes. Then, Luna spoke up softly, placing a hand on the crook of Ember’s elbow. “You were forced to do all of those things Ember. And you were brave enough to leave and even braver to come back.”

Ember smiled at the attempt her friend made to make her feel better, but she didn’t feel brave. She felt very small and cowardly to have run away from their problems. She should have insisted they come to Harry, or the Order, all those months ago. But perhaps if she had, with nothing more than the knowledge of the would be raid, they would have shunned her outright instead of letting her linger.

“As much as our choices weigh heavily, I must say that it sounds as if you and Draco were not given much of a choice.” Lupin responded, rubbing his jaw. “War is cruel in many ways and people get caught up in the crosshairs easily. You’ve made your way to us with great help and though I believe that we are still right to be weary, I see no reason to take your words at anything less than face value.”

She nodded at him humbly and he sighed. “I need to return home, but Kingsley and I will get the word out.” He looked specifically to Harry and Bill. “The Order will place camp here starting tomorrow. That will give us enough time to formulate a stronghold and plan.”

“What about Dumbledore’s Army?” Luna asked.

All eyes turned to her in a very what about it sort of fashion. Her eyes flicked around her companions. “Well shouldn’t they be considered? There are as much a part of this movement as the rest of us.”

“We can’t sneak them all out of Hogwarts, Luna.” Hermione commented. “Let’s focus on getting ourselves into the school, then figure out how to reconvene with Neville.”  
Luna frowned subtly but said nothing further on the matter. 

~

By the afternoon, the sandy expanse that surrounded the Shell Cottage was filled with large temporary tents. An enlargement charm caused the tents to deceive upon appearances, but they were enough of them to create the illusion of a strong safe-grounded camp.

It wasn’t by pure coincidence that Shell Cottage was chosen to be the place of point for the Order of the Phoenix. It was a newly formed safe house that shouldn’t have any reason to be on Voldemort’s radar, not that he was still even raiding Order safe houses, and was large enough in its area to accommodate the group.

Hermione and Harry had placed extensive safe charms around the area to create a dome of security. 

Harry had been persuaded to finally indulge the Order in the inner workings of the trio’s plans. The closer they got to destroying all of the remaining horcruxes, the more help they needed. The more information they needed on the happenings of the world. The trio had no inkling on what the inner workings of Hogwarts or the Ministry looked like in this age. They had no idea what counterintuitive plans the Order had been cooking up and once Lupin had presented himself as the commander of the society, it all developed into one ideal; the more united a force, the more strength existed within it.

Ember and Draco watched from the sidelines as witches and wizards arrived on the outskirts of the boundary line waiting for Fleur and Hermione’s admittance. Luna sat with them, also vaguely feeling out of place amongst the Order. Not that you would have seen it outwardly, but Draco could sense it in the slight tightening of her eyes. If you would have told him six months ago that he would be sitting peacefully with Loony Lovegood in the midst of an Order of the Phoenix gathering he would have cackled till his ribs ached. Now, he enjoyed her company, or rather he enjoyed the impact her company had on Ember. Ember smiled wider and spoke more frequently and he was grateful for the friendship Luna gave her. And really she wasn’t so strange as she was different.

He often thought about his own friends, the ones he hadn’t see since the night of the astronomy tower. He wondered how Crabbe and Goyle faired under the new restrictions of Hogwarts. They were always a bit too daft without him there to guide them. Or manipulate them, he thought bitterly. He even thought of Pansy with only slight derision and wondered if her parents had even let her return to Hogwarts. But it was Blaise he missed the most. They had always shared the same humor, the same disdain for the meager happenings of Hogwarts. Blaise was far more laid back than he was, and he could easily be persuaded into their favor if he had the opportunity to recruit him.

The rest of the Weasley clan had arrived around tea time and Draco, not for the first time, wondered what it would have been like to grow up in a large family. He had never really desired siblings per say, but maybe if he had had siblings he would have only have had to share a brunt of the weight of being a Malfoy.

Kingsley Shacklebolt came and went. He had duties to attend to and had to keep up what little appearances that remained undamaged, but his mere height alone intimidated Draco to no end. Lupin also returned for long intervals, but his mind constantly seemed to drift away when lulls in conversation came. It was only when he mentioned it to Hermione when she had come to ask Luna about a specificity of Hogwarts that he discovered why. His cousin, Nymphadora, was not amongst the Order. She had just given birth to a boy and was still recovering.

Though the news was clearly joyful, Draco frowned at the news. He had been looking forward to seeing her; a part of his family that had always been closed off to him.

Other appeared whom he didn’t recognize. Their names layering in unfamiliarity; Deadlus Diggle, Hestia Jones, Sturgis Podmore, The Prewetts, and one Aberforth Dumbledore. There were also members who could not attend due to circumstances, such as Hagrid, McGonagall, and Nymphadora.

It wasn’t until after a short supper, that Ember and Draco were asked to collaborate. They sat around the same firepit they and the trio had sat around not two days earlier. Only this time, there were maps strewn across tables and goblets of pumpkin juice flowing meagerly.

“You’re sure you know where the diadem is?” Lupin questioned. He and Arthur Weasley had been keeping an prudent eye on the Malfoy.

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yes. I’m positive.”

Their eyes shifted to Ember at his side. “And you believe that you can distract Snape long enough?”

She nodded.

Bill broke into the conversation. “Is it the right time to break back into Hogwarts? You said there’s still at least two more horcruxes after the diadem.” He reminded Harry, who shrugged. 

“We don’t have any other leads.”

“If we timed it right, we could take back the castle.” Podmore suggested. He was a tall man with a square jaw and swirling blonde hair.

Luna nodded. “The only Death Eaters are Snape and the Carrows.”

Draco snorted to himself, only to realize that it hadn’t gone unnoticed by the group. “The Carrows can’t even manage the most basic of spells and lack the subtlety and smarts to be contenders.”

“They bicker with each other more than they get anything else done.” Ember added.

Luna gulped. “They’ve been in charge of the punishment. They have older students practice the cruciatus curse on the younger ones.”

Ember and Draco shared a grave look.

“First and foremost, let’s get the diadem. Then let’s worry about possibly taking back Hogwarts.” Harry decided, then turned to the former Death Eaters. “You’re leaving for Little Hangleton tonight. You’ll apparate to Snape in the morning and Draco will meet back with us.”

“All secret tunnels have been blocked off.” Luna reminded them. “How are you going to get into the castle?”

“We created a passage way through the Hogs Head.” Aberforth Dumbledore said. “Makes it so that I can send provisions to Dumbledore’s Army.”

“Great, then it’s settled.” Lupin announced, standing up and preparing to return to his new family. “The rest of us will wait for Draco to return on the morrow.”

~

Ember was securing the backpack that had travelled with them since the beginning. Fleur was nice enough to pack them something for breakfast and give them water for the short trip. The bag was a little worse for wear since leaving Italy. The misty rain had nearly ruined the leather and she worried if it would hold together for whatever the future might hold. She was wrestling with the synch when the hairs at the back of her neck prickled at the sensation of another person.

Hermione was brushing her bushy hair behind her hair bunglingly, her brown eyes struggling to hold contact with Ember’s. When it became apparent that Hermione wasn’t going to start the conversation, Ember asked kindly, “Yes?”

The brightest witch of her age shifted on her feet before sighing aggravatedly and fixing Ember with an impertinent stare. “Are you sure that you know what you’re doing?”

Ember laughed dryly, a near perfect mimic of Draco’s. “No, but I never really know what I’m doing.”

Hermione wasn’t amused. Ember sighed.

“Look,” She told the older brunette. “I know that you don’t know me and have no reason to trust me, but I’ll be able to distract Snape. It’s just something I know.” She slung the backpack across her shoulder and prepared to walk around Hermione to the edge of the camp.

Hermione grabbed her wrist, stilling her movements, throwing a thoughtful glance at the patch of forget-me-nots on her arm. Ember looked to her calmly, but she couldn’t control the pursing of her lips at the annoyance. Hermione’s eyes were imploring, wide with an unexpressed need for Ember to understand. “What is this worth if Snape just sends you back to You-Know-Who?”

“I don’t think you understand, Hermione.” Ember said placatingly, shaking off her hand. “Snape has no power over me. He can’t make me do anything. Now I appreciate the warning, or the pep talk, or whatever it is you are trying to do, but if anything is going to be done, Draco and I need to leave now.”

Hermione sighed, but stepped in stride with Ember. “I just want you to be conscientious.” She said an inch off beat, but Ember was done listening to her.

Harry, Ron, and Draco stood on the edge of camp. Draco looked like he was in physical pain standing next to them leaning on his nimbus 2001. Ember could see his mouth open with sighs from this distance and knew that he was resisting rolling his eyes. Harry and Ron for their part, mostly ignored his presence altogether until the girls showed up.

Draco straightened and couldn’t help but smile at her and Ember almost laughed at how eager he seemed to part from the trio. She shook her head softly and stood next to him. “Ready.”

“You sure you know how to get there?” Harry asked as Draco helped tighten the straps of the backpack strapped to Ember.

“It’s not that difficult Potter.” Draco responded, only slightly derogatorily.

“How do you plan to see Snape after the two of you are done?” Ron asked Ember.

Her brow wrinkled and she looked between them. “Snape’s had the apparition barriers down since the summer.”

Both boys brows arched. “You know that for sure?” Harry asked disbelievingly.

She nodded. “I visited over the summer frequently enough. It shouldn’t be a problem for me.”

Harry licked his lips. “Alright. Apparate back here when you’ve finished with Snape. Remember, give us an hour at least, if you can.” Harry’s eyes shifted to Draco and reached into his back pocket, fishing out Draco’s confiscated wand and handing it over in a peace offering. “I guess you’ll be wanting this back.”

Draco took it with a grateful nod and straddled his broom.

“If either of you so much as thinks about going back to the Death Eaters, you’ll be in a world of pain.” Ron threatened as Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes at the same time Draco did. 

Ember eyed the broom despairingly, but knew that it couldn’t be helped, and hesitantly got on behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist snugly and looked back over at the best friends with a smile. “Be safe,” She told them sincerely.

The two Malfoy’s pushed up off the ground a zoomed into the air heading North towards Little Hangleton.


	40. The Graveyard

“They say I may be making a mistake. I would have followed all the way, no matter how far. I know when you go down all your darkest roads, I would’ve followed all the way to the graveyard.”  
-Halsey, Graveyard

Landing on the edge of the graveyard was the easiest part about the experience. The rest was disconcerting at best.

The moment they touched the ground, Ember was climbing off the back of the broom. She couldn’t quite put her finger onto why flying made her nervous, she wasn’t especially afraid of heights, nor did she not trust in Draco’s capabilities. Perhaps it was the control, or rather lack of control, over the situation that kept her on edge.

She glanced around the desolate cemetery. It was dark, nearing midnight, and a deep fog had settled over the field. She had an unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach as her eyes glanced around the area. “I’ve been here before,” She whispered, more to herself than to her husband.

“You’ve been here?” Draco asked incredulously as he dismounted the broom and shrunk it down so that it would be able to conveniently fit in his pocket. 

“Just there,” She pointed to an old shack of a house less than a quarter mile away as he came to stand next to her. “It’s where your father first brought me to see him. Where he marked me.”

Draco squinted through the fog. “It could have been a different house.” He looked around the looming grave stones. “I don’t know what Death Eater would rightly choose such real estate.”

She breathed a laugh at his heavy sarcasm. “You know muggles think all witches and wizards live in graveyards or swamps. Probably because of all the spirits.”

Draco felt a shiver run down his spine. “Most muggles are idiots.”

Ember rolled her eyes and began to walk down the lanes lined with tombstones. Most of them were grandiose in size, far taller than she and all the more intimidating for it.  
More than once she questioned if this was really necessary. She was no gravedigger and the longer the two lingered, the more she felt the dew in the air mingle with a sense of foreboding and stick itself to her skin.

She could tell Draco didn’t feel much better about the state of things. And honestly he wouldn’t have followed anyone else into a graveyard at midnight when the world was tilting on its’ own axis. To make matters worse, this wasn’t just some poor fellow they would be desecrating (although that would have been a whole other form of bad), this was the remains of Voldemort’s lineage; something you knew deep in your bones, you shouldn’t mess with.

They walked in silence, Draco’s wand and the moon their only source of light. The grass was wet and spongey underneath their shoes but was otherwise well maintained and Draco hoped that whoever the caretaker was, they wouldn’t have a run in with them tonight.

“Here,” Ember whispered, standing before a giant winged, clothed figure, with a looming scythe. Draco stopped beside her, staring up into the hidden face of the stone. The statue was so realistic that he wouldn’t be surprised if it was death itself coming to laugh in their faces at such a preposterous idea.

She grasped his wand out of his weakened grip and pointed it closer to the headstone. He eventually tore his eyes away from the haunting figure to the names etched in stone: Thomas Riddle, Mary Riddle, and Tom Riddle. It was shocking to think that the Voldemort they now knew had once simply been someone’s son. 

Ember backed away, her eyes trained on the ground, trying to figure out the best way to dig and how far the actual graves would extend to.

“How are we going to know which bones are which?” 

She glanced up at him, paused, opened her mouth to say something before shrugging lightly. Her eyes flickered back up to the markings. “Well, normal custom states that husbands are buried to the left of their wives and by chronological progression, so that means that Thomas Riddle would be buried here.” She pointed to the far left with his wand. “Then Mary Riddle next.” The wand moved steadily to the right before moving over once more. “Then Tom Riddle Senior last.”

Draco, already disconcerted in this environment, was thoroughly disturbed at how fast she had recalled that helpful piece of information. “And how do you know that?”

“I found that out quite recently actually. Wallace recommended a book on the customs of funerals and burials since I was reading Pet Cemetery.”

He stared deadpanned at her. Of course Wallace the fucking Wizard, weirdest muggle he had come across, would suggest that. 

“Now, how do we go about shovels?” 

Draco looked around them, but only saw fog. “There must be a shed around here where the caretaker stores supplies. He’d have to have shovels right?”

Ember shrugged. “Accio shovels!”

Nothing happened for a moment, until the startling sound of something whooshing through the air caused Draco to turn, just in time to duck under three shovels hell bent on flying through him. Instead of catching them, Ember squeaked and ducked to the ground as well, letting the shovels slam into an adjacent gravestone with a loud clang. 

They both stood up slowly from their crouched position and Draco, with a tired glare, took his wand back out of her hand. She gave him an apologetic glance, her bottom lip twitching in a grimace before turning on her heel to go and collect the procured shovels.

Draco rued the fact that they had to dig out graves in the middle of the night. Mostly because it was eerie, but more practically because he had to place his maxima lit wand on top of the tombstones so that they would be able to see what the fuck they were doing. Not that there was a living soul here, but he still didn’t like not having his wand in his hands or pocket; especially after not having it in his grasp for the past two days in the lion’s den. Merlin, did he want a cigarette.

Ember came back over with the shovels and handed him one. She eyed the ground, measuring the distance a casket would be from the stone before semi-confidently stabbing the wet ground with the tip of the shovel, breaking into the earth. 

He sighed before following her lead and tearing the shovel into the ground beneath their feet. “I hope you’re right about this, Em.” He murmured.

“Me too,” She admitted. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck and her arms refused to settle and shivers were slowly coming and going with the breeze.

The gravestones were so tall that it seemed that anything could be lurking behind them. Shadows were darker and all-encompassing and time was not on their side as they had mere hours before she needed to be off to see Snape. Neither knew how long it would take to fully excavate the grave.

“Do you think he knows?” She asked after a few minutes of digging.

“Who knows what?”

She sighed. “Do you think He knows they’re hunting horcruxes? They’ve already destroyed three.”

“I don’t know.” Draco rasped, aggressively digging into the dirt.

“Surely he’s got to feel it if pieces of his soul are being destroyed.”

“What’s left to animate him is nothing more than a horcrux in of itself. Seems doubtful that a few destroyed horcruxes would affect another. If they had, he would have sent us to protect them, guard them, not leave it up to chance that Potter would get to them before he became the wiser. In the end, the closer he is to being all that’s left…maybe that will shift his attention. He’s too focused on the twin wands than anything else.”

“Which doesn’t matter much now. Neither of them have the corresponding twin.”

Draco paused, swiping at his brow that was perspiring greatly over his already sticky skin. “What do you mean?”

She paused as well for a moment. “Well, he had been switching wands every week since he discovered the link between his wand and Harry’s.”

“What about Potter’s?”

“Didn’t you listen to them? Hermione accidentally broke his.”

Draco stared down at the decent sized hole they were making. “Interesting.”

“And it’s Harry.” Ember tacked on as she began to thrust the shovel deeper into the earth.

“Huh?”

She huffed, blazing those green eyes up at him. “His name’s Harry.”

Draco tiredly thrust his own shovel back into the fray, using it as a distraction from the conversation she was leading them down. “I know what his name is.”

There was a heavy pause, fog clouding around them.

“Things could have gone a lot worse.” She reminded.

“They still could.”

She knew he was right, if it was a little pessimistic, but they were on good standing with the trio and that was a step in the right direction. Their offered help was taken with seemingly welcomed, albeit slightly, rightfully, suspicious arms. It still had been a warmer welcome than any Death Eater had ever given either of them and more than they could have hoped for.

“What are you thinking?” She asked softly as they continued to dig themselves deeper.

“I’m thinking this whole things is almost at its’ head and I don’t want to be anywhere near it when it does.”

“They’re so close. All our problem gone! Just a few horcrux’s stand in the way of us and freedom.”

“And then what?” Draco exploded, tossing his shovel aside in frustration. “What is going to happen to us when this is over? Which could still go the other way. We’re fucked no matter what. Only one of our problems is going to be solved.” His voice trailed off as he sat down exhaustedly at the edge of the decent sized hole they had made nearly three feet deep.

Ember froze in her digging, her eyes deeply looked over Draco’s defeated figure before casting her eyes to the ground. She didn’t know any words that could comfort him in that moment, even though she was desperately scrambling to find some.

“After the last war, anyone known to conspire with You-Know-Who was put on trial before thrown into Azkaban indefinitely. We only scraped by the edge of our teeth because father convinced the jurors that he was under the imperious curse. Lots of Death Eaters did. No one would be able to do that now.”

“We don’t know for sure that they would lock us up…”Ember whispered hesitantly. She hadn’t seen Draco so wound up in months, probably since the night they left Hogwarts.  
Draco finally looked at her. “We’ve helped him, both of us. Whether we wanted to or not won’t matter. We’ll die there with the rest of them. And say Potter somehow fails; we might as well be killed on sight.”

The fear that that very well might be their situation clamped over Ember’s heart and she felt it hard to breathe for a moment before she steeled herself. “Do you want to run away?”

“No,” He sighed, leaning back to look at the sky. “That won’t help anything but the inevitable.”

She was glad to hear it. “Then what do you want to do? Does the fact that maybe we might be punished for crimes we helped commit change the fact that we are able to help? That without your help, Harry will waste precious time finding the diadem?”

He remained silent. She pushed on.

“It doesn’t matter what we did. From here on out, it matters what we do.”

He gave her a weighted glance that pierced through her not unlike the spirits she was sure were hovering over them. She couldn’t understand what the look meant, if her words had sunk in or if he was simply dismissing her, but he stood back up and reached for his shovel and she thought that was a good sign.

~

It was nearly dawn, the sunlight already softening the black skies, when Draco’s shovel was met with a thud. Ember immediately dropped her own shovel and fell to her knees in the cool dirt. Quickly brushing away the dirt, she dug with her fingers in the shape of a claws. Suddenly she felt a smooth thin object on the tips of her fingers. She brushed away more of the clumped dirt and when she leaned back to let the moonlight leak into the hole, she squeaked, quickly getting to her feet. The beginnings of yellowed bones in the shape of a femur were surfaced.

Ember, who knew the reason why they had come to the graveyard in the first place, had not truly anticipated the actual thought that she would have to touch someone’s bones. It was a gothic, inhumane, and spiritually demoralizing thing.

She only realized that she was breathing in short hyperventilating breaths when Draco’s hand met her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

She nodded, trying to calm down her breathing. Right then, so viscerally, she realized that she wanted nothing else to connect her to Voldemort. Why was she digging up a grave on the hunch that touching his father’s bone would give her some sort of advantage? She let out a hysterical cry, borderline insane laughter, and looked up to a concerned Draco. “This is insane.”

“Probably, but we’ve come this far.”

She sniffled a laugh, brushing her hair to the side and took in his deep blue eyes. They were soft and patient and safe. Dusting the excess dirt off her hands on her jeans, she psyched herself up enough to kneel back down in the dirt and reached her hand back for the femur. She griped it firmly and closed her eyes in concentration. She tried to feel all the little groves, all the little slopes and dints, pressing her feelers out in hopes of grasping on to any of the remaining DNA that would lift from the decaying bones.

She removed her hand, dropping the femur back in the earth, and took a deep stuttering breath.

“Did it work?” Draco asked quietly from next to her.

She held up a dirty finger as she sat in the grave of Voldemort’s father and tried to feel in the depths of her mind for the dark presence that would be Tom Riddle. It was very faint, but she could feel something and it grew in her minds eyes. The more a vision of his surroundings surfaced in her mind, the more fear clutched at her heart and she immediately detached, afraid that he might somehow figure out what she was up to. She looked up at Draco with a nod and an exhausted sigh. “It worked.”

“Thank fuck for that.” He breathed, relieved. “Now you’re not going to believe how stupid we’ve been.”

Her brows pinched as she saw his sarcastic smile, hands on his hips before pointing upward where the nearest level ground was well over six feet higher than where they stood. “My wands still on the tombstone.”

“Great,” She said tiredly glancing up at the hole they had quite literally dug themselves into. They were stuck inside a hole in the ground with the subtle remains of Voldemort’s father.

Draco rolled his eyes and brushed off his hands on his trousers. Then he held his arms out, “Come on, up you go.”

“What?” She rasped as his hands came around her waist. She let him drag her over to him numbly. He turned his back and crouched down.

“Ultimate piggy back.” He declared, glancing over his shoulder at her.

Doubtingly she looked over at him and he patted his shoulder giving her a wayward grin; one she hadn’t seen in a long time. Apprehensively, she placed her hands on his shoulders.

“Nope.” He quipped lifting her hands to the top of his head and reaching for her calf.

She stumbled underneath his capable hands. “I don’t know about this…” She announced before hesitantly lifting her left leg and placing it over his shoulder as instructed. She took a deep breathe before resting her hands on the top of his head and thrusting her other leg over his shoulder.

She wobbled and squeaked, her hold on his head had to be getting painful. But he quickly, before they lost their momentum, straightened up. His long legs gave then the advantage and their combined height gave just enough room for Ember to clasp onto the righted ground to steady them.

“Got it?” He called.

“Yeah.”

Awkwardly, she tucked her left leg up so that she could transfer her weight onto her foot and boosted herself up out of the hole quickly before she could cause any damage to Draco. She rolled onto her tummy to secure herself and for a moment, as she caught her breath, she stared up into the sky at the barely concealed stars. They twinkled at her with mischievous hellos, letting her know that even when it looked like they were gone, they never really were.

“Em?” Draco called.

“Right.”

She rolled herself up to her knees and took the steps to secure the wand that was still illuminating massive amounts of light from atop the tombstone. She brought it back over to the edge of the grave. Draco glanced up at the movement and she had to catch her breath. His eyes were hypnotizing reflecting off the remaining moonlight. His hair was ruffled by her fingers, and his lips parted, his breath misting over the fog. 

She rattled her head and leaned down to extend his wand down to him, wondering idly how he was going to get himself out of the grave. But he had a plan. He cracked his neck, tightened his hold on his wand, and then pointed at the extravagant pile of dirt. 

The dirt trickled in and began to fill the hole from the bottom up and when it got to a reasonable height, Draco climbed atop it albeit unsteadily and stepped out of the grave entirely before filling the rest of the overturned grave. For how many hours it had taken them to dig the thing up, it was back to being sealed beneath the ground in only a few minutes.

“I’m glad that’s over.” He said as he pocketed his wand, before glancing at the muddled mess the two of them had become. “Come on, I think there should be a hose where the shed is.”

She nodded, bending down to toss the rucksack back over her shoulder and reaching for the two shovels while she was at it. She quickened her pace to match his and he reached for the shovels in her hand. The fog that had surrounded them the entire night was slowly turning into morning dew. Though the hue had lightened it didn’t make the cemetery any less foreboding and they were both grateful when they finally steered away from the graves and tombstones and sought refuge at the shed. 

It was a tiny shack that had grey paint peeling off. Draco wondered why they had bothered to even paint the thing. It was odd and looked as if it might blow over, but he was right and there was a tiny spicket with a small hose wrapped around it that they could easily use to wash the dirt off their skin.

Draco unwound the hose and twisted the nob. Sharp cold water spurted out the end and he immediately wetted his hands; the water running off brown from his fingertips. Ember placed down the bag and walked around the corner to find the barn like doors surprisingly unlocked.

It was a moist room, if it could even be called a room, and contained nothing more than two rickety shelves on either side and a work bench pressed up against the far side.

Returning outside, she found Draco tossing a hand-cup full of water over the back of his neck. Remarkably, it was entirely sensual and he glanced up at her completely unaware of his beauty- or the effect it had on her. Shaking thoughts that they didn’t have time to manifest fully, she took the hose from him and washed her hands. If she thought she had been slick enough to conceal her lustful gaze, she was sorely mistaken when she found Draco’s lips pulled into a sideways smirk.

When her hands were relatively clean, she knelt down to their bag and flipped the top, riffling into its depths for the only clean piece of clothing she had left. It was a plain grey dress with long sleeves made of lace. Not one of her favorites, but it was clean.

Ember walked back over to the hose and grabbed some water to wash the filth off her face. Draco caught a spot she missed, his thumb caressing the end of her jaw lovingly. She felt her face heat up and bashfully glanced down at their shoes now caked with mud.

“We have anything to eat?” Draco whispered, seemingly not breaking the electric current through them but also shifting just enough in conversation to make Ember more comfortable.

Her brain was still rattled with thoughts that were less than pure and it took her a moment for her brain to catch up with her salivating tongue. “Um, yeah. Yeah! Fleur gave me some stuff before we left.”

He nodded reaching for their bag as she moved towards the front of the shed. “Where are you going?” He called to her curiously.

She held the dress up in her hands, “To change.” She explained, slipping into the shed.

His mouth was suddenly dry as the desert. The hunger in his stomach turning into an entirely different form of hunger, yet no less demanding. 

He rounded the corner, leaving the water still trickling out of the forgotten hose, just as Ember finished shrugging out of her shirt. Her back was to him, softly illuminated in the dust first rays of morning light through the one rusted window.

He could clearly make out the dust of freckles across her shoulders, knew every curve and line with his tongue as much as his fingers, but still seeing her vulnerably displayed would never not entice him. Her body, that slowly gained more curves the more the months passed, were like magnets for his eyes; it drew him into where nothing else mattered but the thought of touching her skin, holding her close, running his lips over hers.

He hadn’t quite noticed that his feet continued his desires and steadily marched him towards her until she looked over her shoulder. She gave him a curiously bemused look through her eyes, but the way her shoulder raised closer to her neck and the gentle rush of blood to her cheeks told him that she was not as naïve as she may have played.

Draco removed his eyes from her gaze, instead he lowered his neck and brushed his slightly chapped lips against her shoulder blade, slowly reaching his hands to grasp onto her milky hips. She didn’t say anything, but her shoulder relaxed underneath his lips and a delicate sigh slipped past her own. A moment later, she completely sagged against his chest at the wonderfully divine feeling of his lip tracing her skin; his tongue tenderly peeking out and mapping its own way to her neck.

“Is this the best idea?” She breathed conspiratorially.

His hands squeezed her hips as he leaned his body across her back until she became the pearl to his possessive clam. He brushed her slightly frizzy hair across her neck and bent down to kiss the nape of her neck. He inhaled deeply through his nose, the mud and sweat unable to truly overshadow the scent of Ember.

“Probably not.” He whispered blowing against the shell of her ear, sending a bout of pleasurable shivers down her spine and a tiny, barely there, moan escaped her throat.

With his hands still clasping her hips, he twisted her around to face him and nearly fell to his knees at the soft loving look in her shining forest eyes. She didn’t try to shy away.  
She didn’t bow her head to avoid his eyes. She lifted one hand to brush his hair out of his eyes before leaning up and taking his lips as her own.

He fell into her like quicksand; slow at first and then all at once. His grip on her tightened as he dived his tongue into her mouth, while lifting her up and almost harshly depositing her on the work bench. He spread her legs demandingly and slipped into the open space like a glove. Her thighs tightened around his hips in a form that dangerously greeting him, welcoming him home. He groaned into her mouth.

His hands immediately went to the clasp of her jeans, flicking it open and pulling down the zipper with refined ease and was only slightly impressed when she quickly helped him slide them off of her. Her own hands went to his shirt and rapidly undid the first half before diving her hand beneath the cloth and trailing her slightly cold fingers over his chest.

Draco gently pushed her panties to the side and dipped two fingers into her honey. She broke their lips apart, her hands clasping either side of his neck just below his jawline.  
She said nothing in retaliation, only looked up at him adoringly as he pushed his fingers inside of her. 

She was absolutely drenched. In wetness, in sweat, in love. He removed his fingers and slipped them inside his mouth, moaning at the taste. Her eyes followed his fingers and unconsciously her lips parted and her tongue sneaked out to wet her lips. He watched as her pupils blew wide open.

They paused, just drinking each other in for a moment. He placed his hands on either side of her hips and leaned forward so that there was relatively no height difference between them. Ember felt the muscles beneath his shoulder ripple at the movement and could simply picture the movement from all the times she had stolen glances at his naked back.

It was intense. A moment between lovers where no words were needed. Their unwritten language was in little quirks of lips, glimpses of wet tongues, heated gazes, and elated sighs. Then as if a green light lit between them, Ember dove for his own waistband and he pulled down the cups of her bra and captured her breasts in his hands, flickering her already straining nipples. 

When she freed him of his confines, he wasted no time in sheathing himself inside her. They both groaned at the feeling, this angle made her even tighter than any other they had tried, and Draco made sure to move slowly in and out of her so as to not hurt her.

She latched her mouth on his collarbone and sucked hard causing Draco to crash his body into hers. She moaned loudly and clawed at his chest, the sting of her nails driving him faster.

He pushed them further faster until they fell over the edge with quiet moans and rapid breaths in each other’s heat. He pulled out of her slowly and she winced against his chest at the strange feeling, wondering if it was always going to feel so wrong to be parted from him.

Draco tucked himself back into his trousers and gathered her in his arms, simply holding her against him. He glanced at the light that was steadily streaming brighter from the window and sighed against the crown of her head. He didn’t trust Snape as much as she did, never had and most likely never would, but he did trust her. And if she trusted Snape in that weird connection they seemed to have, he would have to respect her decisions. It would help them sneak in, but if Snape caught wind of what Ember was trying to accomplish, Draco didn’t know if Snape would cross that line of trust between them. It was what lied in the shadows that concerned him; all the possibilities, both good and bad, stretched out before them.

She kissed the underside of his jaw and he dropped his forehead to her shoulder, bundling up as much of her as he could before she flew away from him.

~

After their slight delay, Ember embarked from the shed clad in her fresh dress. It only slight looked odd with her boots, and sat down next to the fully clothed Draco who was sat with his back resting against the shed.

They watched the sunrise in silence, both munching on the breakfast Fleur had given them, Ember’s legs thrown over Draco’s. And as the sun rose in the air slowly and steady, the time they had left together evaporated around them leading Ember to sigh and reach for their backpack.

Draco looked over at her curiously as she dug deep into the bag. She leaned back against him slowly holding the music box he had given her for Christmas. She opened it softly and twinkling music floated around them. She delicately caressed the embossed edges as she stared at the stoned ballerina spinning around and around.

Her head was lent against his shoulder, his hand holding just above her knees. They were picture perfect lovers before parting. Just like the old photos from the war where soldiers embraced their loves before stepping on the train that would carry them off to battle. Ember supposed that this wasn’t much different from them.

“I think you should keep the bag.” She whispered, gently closing the music box and halting the soothing music.

His brows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t question her. He knew by now that she never did anything without a good reason, as big or little as the decision might be.

“Okay.”

He watched her face shift to sadness as she gazed at the music box, like it would possibly be the last time she ever saw it. She gave another little sigh and placed it back in the bag before turning her full attention to him.

He couldn’t quite figure out why she was acting so frustratingly forlorn. She gave him a small smile, tucking some of her hair behind her ear. She knew that in a few hours the fears of being permanently parted from him would be null and void, but many things could happen in a few minutes, much less hours. Best laid plans rarely worked, just look at their past records. They were both taking risks, the question that remained would be if the risk was worth the reward.

Ember began to draw her legs off his lap but he squeezed her causing her to pause. “Wait,” He breathed.

His hand disappeared into his pocket before revealing in his palm that curious piece of gold Ember had seen him fiddle with all those months ago back at Hogwarts. He handed it to her wordlessly before revealing a matching token.

“What is it?” She asked twirling the coin in her fingers. It had strange markings; the numerals one through twenty eight etched on the side.

“This is a way to communicate with each other.” She looked at him curiously, but he smiled as reassuringly as he could. “I know that we won’t need it, but if things ever go sideways, I’ll feel better if we have them.”

She nodded. “How do they work?”

He held his own coin out for her to see. “Every letter correlates to its chronological place in the alphabet. And then you twist the letter to here.” He pointed to the slightly raised triangle, keeping his eyes level with hers. “When one of us has a message, the coin heats up then slowly unravels the message.”

“You had this with you all last year.” She stated and he nodded. “Why?”

He deflated slightly but only for a moment before he recovered smoothly. “I’m not proud of the things that I did last year. I had Madame Rosmerta under an imperious curse all last winter. I had her monitoring the comings and goings of Dumbledore. She’d communicate with me and I with her, through these.”

“Are these common?”

“No. I actually got the idea from Grang-” He stumbled, but didn’t let it slow him down. “Hermione. In our fifth year, she made a similar coin to communicate with Dumbledore’s Army. It’s a protean charm.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big accomplishment. It always struck her odd that his priorities were so cross-wired. Here he was presenting her with his own creation, as if it was nothing to write home about, when he had desperately wanted recognition for the ultimate plots of others.

She shook her head, amazed. “It’s brilliant.”

He tilted her chin up, looking at her seriously. “Only the two of us have this. If something, anything, happens, you tell me with this if you can’t apparate to me.”

Despite the empty feeling of a weight settling in the bottom of her stomach, she placed on the most believingly smile she could manage and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. “Everything will turn out fine, you’ll see. This time tomorrow, it’ll be you and me deciding where we want to travel to next, no restrictions this time.”

His cheek moved upward underneath her fingers in a grin. “We’ll get more of those Danishes from Clementine’s.”

“And visit somewhere warm; somewhere by the ocean.” She added enthusiastically.

“Go swimming with dolphins.”

“Get a really good pizza in Italy.”

“And stand on those stones in Ireland.”

They both smiled at each other, both knowing that most likely this time tomorrow they would somehow be roped in and entangled in the throes of the war that was quietly brewing, but it was nice to dream.

Ember gently leaned forward, connecting her lips with his in a longing kiss. She pulled back just a hairs breadth away and stared into his eyes. “No matter what happens, we started this alone together and that’s how we’ll finish it.”

He rested his forehead against hers, brushing their noses together with his eyes closed. 

That warm fuzzy feeling filled her to the brim to where she nuzzled her nose against his. “Don’t get distracted in that head of yours,” She implored, brushing his hair out of his eyes. They opened, softening at her words. The simple sentence conveying perfectly that she understood him in a way he barely understood himself.

“I won’t” He promised.

She gave him one more kiss before shifting off of him and standing alone. She glanced at him slightly shy before pocketing the coin in the only place she could trust it- in her bra. His eyes followed her movements and he grinned.

She waved lamely, trying to burn the picture of his face in her mind, and just as she was about to cast out her feelers for Snape, Draco lunged up and pulled her in for one more breathtaking kiss.

It wobbled her knees and filled her stomach with molten honey. When he pulled back she quickly put space between them, because if she didn’t they would continue this trend until the end of forever and she was on a timed schedule.

Gnawing on her bottom lip, she took in his eyes once more, before twisting and fading away like smoke, leaving a lonesome Draco to stare at the space she had left in the middle of the cemetery; alone.


	41. The Struggle of Honesty

“And the terror and the horror; God, I wonder why we bother. All the glamour and the trauma and the fucking melodrama.”  
-Lorde, Sober II (Melodrama)

She wasn’t sure what she had expected to walk into when she found Snape, but it certainly wasn’t him hunched over a bottle of vodka with his hands raking through his hair.   
She’d landed in his office, the one that would always belong to Dumbledore in her mind, to see him so vulnerably under stress that it was awkward when he hadn’t even noticed her appearance.

She cleared her throat awkwardly, “Is this a bad time?”

His head darted up, black eyes that always held all the secrets of the world, brutally narrowed at her before recognition flashed and they softened into genuine curiosity.   
“Ember?”

She shrugged non-committal, before walking and sitting herself at home in the chair across from his desk just like the old times. It would have been a good idea had she come up with a plan before apparating, but alas she’d just have to make do. Perhaps she could even gather information on the new opposition, especially if he was already indisposed. But she got the feeling that he had only begun to toe with the liquor.

His mouth gaped open in an expression that she had never expected to find on such a well masked face. He looked at her as if she was a ghost. It might have been the first time she had ever struck him speechless and she inwardly found an inch of pride fill in her. She was learning this game, slowly but surely. 

“Where have you been?” He questioned like he wanted to spit the words at her but they came out in a rushed, almost relieved, river.

“All over. I’m sure Greyback could inform you with some specifics.” She replied snidely. She trusted Snape more than she trusted anyone on that side of the wizarding divide, but she was still creeping on the side of caution. She was determined that she wouldn’t be a reason to flame any sort of metaphysical fire. 

His eyes narrowed at her accusation. “It wasn’t my idea to send him after the two of you.”

A silence settled over the two of them, almost as if they had come across a line neither knew what to do with. Just then, Snape reached below Ember’s line of vision and fished two glasses out of a side drawer. He placed them both on top of the nearly bare desk and began pouring hefty helpings of vodka in each. He slid one over to her, effectively breaking any sort of grudge held tension.

She accepted with her trademarked sweet smile and took a slight slip in good faith, trying not to wince as the burn dripped down her throat. Snape leaned back, his glass hanging loosely at his side. “How did the two of you manage to escape without leaving any trail besides the fact you’d withdrawn money from Gringotts?”

She smirked over her glass, pride at besting those who had once upon a time underestimated her filled her once more. It was a smirk almost identical to that of her husband's Snape noticed and wondered what else had changed in the near ten months since he had last seen her.

“I healed the dark mark.”

“I gathered that. Even so, how did the two of you fly under the radar for so long? Greyback only found you a week ago.”

She shrugged. “Had to keep moving around. We didn’t use magic unless absolutely necessary and blended in with the muggles.”

“I’m sure Draco loved that.”

Her smiled turned into more of a grimace. “He’s learned that magic and superiority aren’t the only ways to live. He assimilated quite well, mind you.”

“Did he now?”

The way he said it made her double think on how much Draco had really learned in their self-imposed isolation but she didn’t let it actually hook its claws into her thoughts. She let it pass by with nothing more than a glance.

“Why are you so glum? Being Headmaster not all it’s cracked up to be?”

He ignored her inquiries entirely. “Why are you here?” He asked bluntly.

“Things are in motion…sides have been drawn, even taken.”

“And you’ve come to enlighten me on your choice to align yourself with Potter? Or have you taken yourself out of the equation altogether?”

“I’ve come to ask whose side you’re actually on.” She countered with equal bluntness.

It clearly took him by as much surprise as one can give to Severus Snape.

She levelled him with an imprudent stare, one that he couldn’t easily wiggle out of. 

“You seemed loyal to Dumbledore. You seem loyal to You-Know-Who. You were a trusted member of the Order. You are a trusted member of the Death Eaters. You are the best liar I know.” She set her barely empty glass on the table and leaned forward. “And I’ve seen glimpses of your mind. I trust you, when I know that I shouldn’t, and I want to know why.”

He looked at her for a long time, but she didn’t break underneath his stare. The timid girl who hid her cleverness was breaking the surface in full swing and he would be lying to say that he wasn’t impressed. She was telling the truth, in the swing of learning about her and her abilities, he had ultimately cracked slightly in places he had not thought she would encounter, giving her just long enough to see the truth lying in him.

“Back before,” She waved ambiguously, “When you were teaching me legilimency, I saw glimpses. One was clearly of you begging Dumbledore. Why?”

He tossed back the rest of his glass. He was twitching in his chair nervously, debating. She had never seen anything less than a sure Snape. He was always in control, of virtually everything, and to see his exterior crack in the furrows of his brow, in the twitch of his fingers, in the constant pursing and unpursing of his lips, had Ember leaning in. He was cracking; she had hit all the right marks. The only thing that remained was how long it would take him to wrestle with his decision.

Snape debated a lot and he knew that Ember could see it in his eyes, but it wasn’t an easy decision to make. He could lie, make some excuse up, but somehow he knew she would likely see through it. That and the fact that her question was so cut and dry that there was no grey area, and honestly it was hard to keep track of what side he was actually on these days. Being a triple agent would do that to a person.

Things were getting trickier to balance. It had been so much easier when Dumbledore had been around. He hated to think about what might have been if Albus hadn’t messed with the horcrux. If he hadn’t sacrificed himself for the cause. As he glanced at her patient face, he realized that maybe this was a good opportunity to impart what he knew.   
Things were unbalanced and it wouldn’t do if he died being the only one who knew what he did. She was the only one left that would trust him enough to understand and believe his words. What could she really do that he hadn’t already done to himself? By the end of this, if he survived, he wouldn’t be trusted by anyone.

“First and foremost, I’m on my own side.” He stated for the record, holding one finger up before pouring himself another round. “And I’d suggest that you do the same.” He paused for a moment as if mulling over his choice of words. “I was a Death Eater first. Lucius brought the idea to me before he graduated. But things…changed during the first war. The woman I loved was in danger and so was her son. I came to Dumbledore once I understood the plan and pleaded for him to save them, and he tried, not hard enough, but he tried. But things got complicated and her son was the only one to survive.”

Ember stared at the man before her softly. He wouldn’t meet her eyes and she knew he was telling the truth. He wouldn’t have become this vulnerable otherwise. “Her son was Harry.”

It wasn’t really a question and he never gave her a straight answer.

“Dumbledore had me kill him last year. He was dying anyway and he wanted me to prove my unyielding loyalty to the Dark Lord. It was the perfect opportunity.”

“So Draco never had a chance of killing him.” She remarked, her mouth dropped open at the hilarity.

Severus tilted his head and rolled his eyes. “We both know he never would have actually gone through with it.”

She nodded her agreement.

“It became easier to become a part of the Order. I had Dumbledore’s shoulder as a crutch, but once a Death Eater always a Death Eater. He came back and when he calls you answer. Dumbledore’s had me playing triple agent for years.”

“That has to be really lonely.” She commented sympathetically as the conversation came to a lull.

He nodded unseeingly, before his eyes blazed into hers. “He’s going to have to kill Potter before the end of it.”

The sentence was so abrupt that it took Ember a moment to wrap her head around the words and understand exactly what he said. “What do you mean?”

“It’s complicated.” Snape brushed off as if she wouldn’t be able to actually understand any of what was going on behind the scenes.

“Does it have anything to do with horcruxes?” She stated obtrusively.

His brows rose exponentially and his jaw unhinged just slightly. “How…?”

She leaned back in her chair. “I ran across my mother.”

It was like she had dropped a bomb. “What?” He hissed, leaning forward on the desk. “You just happened across your mother? The same woman the Dark Lord has been trying to track down for almost two years now?”

“Well. Long story, but I accidentally apparated to our old home and she’s been hiding out there. She’s the one who told Draco and I about the horcruxes and my parents involvement with one of them.”

Snape’s eyes that had been dull since she arrived widened with the look that one only had when they wanted to hear all of the gossip. “And did you find out what happened to them, to you, all those years?”

“I found out enough.” Ember said cryptically.

“Interesting.” He licked his lips. “And she just offered you this information on horcruxes?”

Ember shrugged. She’d really rather not get into the specifics of that particular day. “I was going to get answers. Anyway, that’s what brought us back into the fold, among other things. We needed to give Harry all the help that we could.”

He leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully. “Yes, I heard about your rendezvous at the manor.”

Her eyes pinched at his sarcasm. “Are Narcissa and Lucius alright?”

He looked at her incredulously. “Define alright.”

She sighed. She hadn’t truly been expecting a different answer but knowing definitively that they had been otherwise tortured was tough information, if not for anything but Draco’s sake.

“You went to Potter after that?”

“The only reason we were at the manor in the first place was because Harry was there.”

He gave her an inquisitive look at the vague implication that they had purely known where Potter was, and Ember’s eyes widened slightly at the slip up, but Snape didn’t take the time to question in. “And now we’ve circled back. Why are you here?”

She bit the inside of her cheek, debating on staying in the grey areas or revealing the truth behind her impromptu visit. “If you could, without any thoughts to repercussions, would you defy You-Know-Who?”

He began to twist his glass around in slow circles on the desk. “Under the right circumstances. Though we share his basic ideals, no one really likes him. His fortress is built on fear not loyalty with the exception of Bellatrix.”

It was enough for her to divulge the truth. “I’m here as a distraction.”

“A distraction?”

She didn’t elaborate and if by divine intervention, loud clanging alarms began to ring. Ever so slowly his pinched face smoothed out with resigned ambivalence. “They’re here aren’t they?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. 

He perked in his chair, tension resuming its hold on his shoulders. “They sent you here so that they could try and sneak in.”

“Well, it was entirely my idea.” She said smugly.

“Incredibly risky.” He chastised hypocritically. “I could send you right back to The Dark Lord.”

She crossed one leg over the other looking at him plainly. “You still might.”

He sat there, and would have been pulling at his beard if he possessed one, the gears in his head turning. “Yes, I might.” 

His tone shifted and it was the first time she felt less than prepared.

“Ultimately, Potter and The Dark Lord are going to have to duel. You could be a tipping factor.”

“Tipping factor?” She inquired leerily.

“If you were at his side, he would undoubtedly use you as a shield. He’d never expect you to disobey. Not that he would really put all his faith into your hands, but it might give Potter just enough time to shift the balance into his favor if you…failed to protect The Dark Lord.”

Her lips parted in understanding of this new brilliance but quickly her eyes clouded over with doubt. 

“I could return you to him; say that I captured you in the midst of this infiltration. He’s been using valuable resources to try and track you down. Play into his hand, act naïve. Be one step ahead of him.”

She judged his words carefully. If she conceded, she would even be able to communicate to Draco through the coin any information she gathered that could be beneficial to the golden trio. It wouldn’t be without pain though. She’d be actively walking back into the vipers pit where venom already called her name. And Draco, God Draco. He wouldn’t like it. She might not see him until this was all over, if it ever was. She had no guarantee that Voldemort wouldn’t kill her when he laid eyes on her and therefore kill Draco in the process.

“If it went wrong…” She said softly, apprehensively, letting the thought trail off in the space between them.

“I think it depends on how much faith you put into Potter. I’m not going to lie to you, it would be incredibly dangerous.”

“What about Draco?” Her mind was reeling, in that way that logical thoughts began to rumble around her when her gut had already made up its mind. 

“What about him?” He sighed.

Her eyes hardened at his uncouthness. “I couldn’t. Well, I mean that I shouldn’t-“

“Listen.” Snape said frankly, complete serious. “He goes back with you…It’s not going to be pretty. He’d keep you separated so that you wouldn’t be able to heal him. Draco has nothing to offer them but his pain. I don’t presume to know the depth of your relationship, but if you cared for him at all, leave him behind. He’ll thank you for it.”

She wasn’t sure that Draco would thank her for it, but it would keep him safe; the only protection she would be able to give to him was to leave him in the dark for the time being.

Snape could tell she was battling with herself and leaned forward with expert ease. “Hey, you came back into the fold to help right?”

She nodded numbly.

He shook his head incredulously. “Then help. This is the best way you can be of service.”

Her eyes flitted across the room. She never imagined that she would have to truly be that close to Voldemort ever again. “But what if I just shielded Harry instead?”

He shrugged. “He’d just kill you. If you can convince him that it was Draco’s idea to leave- that Draco was the ultimate master mind behind your escape- then reassure him of your obedience, you have a shot of really making a difference without getting yourself killed in the process.”

“Who’s to say that He won’t kill me after I deceive him?”

Snape held out his hands exasperatedly. “There’s no guarantee. But I’d expect that if done right, he’d be more concerned with Harry than with you.

She was gambling not only with her life, but with Draco’s as well and without any time to confer with him about it. He would hate her for this.

She swallowed thickly. “If I should go along with this…”

“You’ll be on your own.”

She thought about it deeply, already regretfully, before ultimately agreeing. As if a sign, she felt the coin that rested against the skin of her begin to heat; a clear sign saying that they were safe for the time being and that she no longer needed to be a distraction. 

She gulped. If she made it out of this, Draco was going to kill her.

“Alright.”

Snape stood up with new vigor. “Well, then let’s make this quick.”

~

Draco felt the weight of her absence as soon as they parted. He had stood there in that empty graveyard feeling dauntingly lonely for longer than he should have. He landed back on the outskirts where the invisible boundary laid around the Shell Cottage feeling a cold settle in his bones that had nothing to do with the breeze. He waited patiently for someone to come around and bring him back into the protective dome. 

He felt a had grasp just above his elbow and usher him back through the invisible barrier. He looked down to see Luna, her blue eyes as big as ever, a sad sort of smile on her face. She squeezed his elbow once before letting her hand drop and turning smoothly back towards the main hub. He watched her long hair bounce behind her in swift swishes with his face pinched. She would always going to be strange no matter how use to her presence he got, wouldn’t she?

Sighing deeply, shifting the rucksack on his shoulder, he hesitantly stepped forward, absolutely dreading having to deal with the trio without Ember as a much needed buffer.  
Harry, Arthur Weasley, Ron, Lupin, Hermione, and Bill were gathered around one of the tables set outside the center of the tents when Luna and Draco approached them with small steps. Harry met his eyes first. “Did the bones work? Was she able to get through?”

Draco nodded. “I don’t know how long she’ll be able to hold his attention for though.”

Lupin, his long limbs leaned over the table, inquired gruffly, “She’s to report back here when she’s finished right?”

Draco licked his chapped lips, that still slightly tasted of her, rubbing his jaw. “That’s the plan. Now let’s get moving before Snape wises up.”

“Do you really think she’ll be able to distract him?” Hermione asked, her face set in a doubtful disposition.

Draco’s automatic response was to glare at the bushy brunette and he had to reign in his attitude, though the aggravation didn’t quite leave his eyes. “Em is remarkably good at spending long hours with Snape. And she’s right, Snape will want to talk to her.”

“We seriously expect Snape to not turn her back over to You-Know-Who?” Ron asked incredulously, his arms folded over his chest.

Draco couldn’t reign in his glare this time.

Ron shook his head in defense. “What? The two of you went gravedigging so we’d have access to You-Know-Who’s location without compromising Harry and we’ve just handed her over to a Death Eater. Does no one else see a problem with this?”

“It’s a good enough plan of distraction.” Hermione intervened. “And Snape has surprised us in the past.”

“Look,” Draco hissed, his eyes growing a few degrees colder in his frustrated haze. “I don’t fucking trust Snape, the same as you. But for some reason, Ember trusts him enough not to immediately turn her over and I trust her. Now let’s move before whatever distraction she might give us fails.”

“Draco’s right. There’s no debating it now.” Lupin interjected, standing tall and giving a strong nod to the former Death Eater before turning his torso to look over at the short Ravenclaw. “Luna, you understand the messages to give to Neville?”

“Yes, Professor.” Her eyes widened slightly. “Oops, I mean Mr. Lupin, Sir.”

Lupin’s lips twitched up into a smile at her mistake and nodded before looking back to the main group. “Then off you go. Aberforth will be waiting for you at the Hogs Head.”

Ron, Hermione, and Luna began walking away from the cluster of tents while Harry hung back to exchange whispers with both Lupin and Arthur. Draco turned to leave before feeling something tug at the strap still thrown over his shoulder. He turned back to see Bill giving him an almost friendly smile and taking the backpack from him. “We’ll keep it safe for you.” He promised.

He wanted to protest, on the fact that neither he nor Ember had been parted from it for months, but the rejection barely formed in his throat when he realized that he really couldn’t be expected to lug it all around Hogwarts stealthily, and he nodded his appreciation before making his way to the group.

Luna smiled at him in her odd way and held her hand out for him to take. He schooled his face to not show his eerie confusion at their new settled ground, courtesy of Ember, and grasped onto her small outstretched hand. 

Harry was the last to link up with Hermione on the other side and they all looked at one another before Harry twisted on the spot and like dominos falling, they cracked into the air one by one.


	42. The Test of Allegiance

“In the morning light, let my roots take flight. Watch me from above like a vicious dove. They don’t see me come, who can blame them? They never seem to catch my eye, but I never wondered why.”  
-Imagine Dragons, Tiptoe

The group landed in a calamity of limbs. None of them had ever side-by-side apparated with quite that many people and therefore they landed outside the path that led to the Shrieking Shack with limbs entangled and long hair being pulled. Draco realized that he was laying on one of Harry’s arms and gazed at the spectacled boy in horror before skittering to his feet and dusting off his shoulders and trousers as if nothing had happened. 

They remained silent as they all tramped down the path towards the village. Hands tucked in pockets, heads pointed towards the ground; they walked in pairs with Harry in the middle, avoiding eyes and anything that would bring attention- not that there would be any to attract.

Hogsmeade was alarmingly scarce of witches and wizards in the unsettling version of a ghost town. It made it all that more startling when they stepped into the village and a loud screeching siren blared around them. They had all, including those back at Shell Cottage, conveniently forgotten the curfew that had been set upon Hogsmeade Village.

They recovered well enough and managed to trickle clandestinely through the back of the village and slide into the back of the Hog’s Head without running into whatever poor Death Eater-affiliates happened to be on curfew duty that day. All were pleased to realize that the Hogs Head was empty except for an unamused Aberforth who was cleaning a glass behind the bar.

Without any sort of urgency, Aberforth placed the glass back on the bar and pointed behind them. “It’s right through here,” He turned to open what looked to be a spice cabinet and disappeared into its depths. The trio shared a glance before stepping to follow the quiet abstruse man. 

Draco gestured exaggeratedly for Luna to enter before him, rolling his eyes when she stepped with a slight skip into the would be cabinet, and followed her and shutting the door behind him.

It led them through a spice cabinet but out the back wall was another door that led into a little room that was clearly the first level to Aberforth Dumbledore’s apartments. By the time Draco met with the group, the trio were already gazing up at a portrait of a young girl no older than a fourteen walking down a path.

Aberforth was hovering in the back, pretending to straighten up the table while giving Hermione a begrudging look. Draco found it hilarious that he could evoke such a look from Granger in the short amount of time it took for him to tail end their party.

Slowly, the girl in the photo returned with a body trailing behind her. The person was ambiguous at first, nothing more than a shadow behind her, but once she got close enough to be in the foreground of the portrait, it opened, as portrait holes do, to reveal none other than Neville Longbottom.

The boy, with a badly bruised eye and a severely cut lip, grinned lopsidedly at the group, crouching down in the portrait hole. Draco wondered when the hopeless wizard had grown so tall. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Neville!” Harry greeted with a grin of his own followed by similar responses from the group.

It seemed that it was then when the breathless laughter ebbed that Neville noticed Draco, his thickened eye brows pulling together strongly in severe displeasure; his eyes accusing. Draco had the good-nature to wince as he remembered all the awful things he had done to Longbottom over the years. “What is he doing with you?”

“Don’t mind Malfoy. He’s nothing but a vessel of useful information.” Ron jibbed.

Draco glared at the lot of them. Harry sighed, trying to redirect the attention before Draco returned the tactless humor, and hefted himself up into the tunnel besides Neville.

They all filed in one by one, not another glance given to Aberforth. Ron scowled greedily at Draco before insisting that he go in before him. The ginger didn’t trust having Malfoy at the back of the lot in a dark winding tunnel.

“This is inventive.” Luna acknowledged as the group began the long trek through the tunnel with nothing but wand light.

Neville smirked proudly. “This is the only way in or out anymore.”

Draco grimaced at the edged rocks pocking out through the walls, clipping his shoulders at every turn. It was dark, wet, and cold and he had no desire to remain in the passage any longer than absolutely necessary.

“Ember said that they lifted the ban on apparation.” Hermione commented, nearly tripping over a lone stone.

“Only Death Eaters can apparate in and out of the grounds. And they can only apparate to certain areas of the castle.” Neville explained as he ducked under a thick stalactite.   
“And who’s Ember?”

“The girl who followed Snape around all last year.” Ron supplied and Draco had to bite his tongue at the overly simplified description of his favorite person.

“Ah.”

To digress the situation, Hermione changed the subject. “How is it with Snape being Headmaster?”

Neville shrugged. “Hardly ever see him. It’s the Carrows you need to watch out for.”

“So we’ve heard.” Harry added dryly.

They were quiet as they all came to the end of the stretch. Suddenly the wall began to move as the back of another portrait door swung open, pouring light into the tunnel.   
It revealed an open room that resembled a jungled fort with canopies of beds and stacks of unorganized rations. Students of every house were scattered around, clumped together in groups, their attention stolen completely when Neville stepped forward. “You won’t believe what Aberforth had for us this time.” He prolonged before stepping aside and revealing Harry Potter to the downtrodden students.

A calamitous uproar of applause and yells filled the room as they all climbed out of the portrait hole and left the tunnel behind them. The trio, plus Neville and Luna, rushed down the ladder to greet all their ravenous peers. But Draco lingered behind at his own pace. His eyes scanned over the familiar faces but there wasn’t a Slytherin in sight.

When he reached the bottom, attentions seemed to shift onto him. Their exhausted eyes looked upon him like he was the plague, or an infestation that you couldn’t quite exterminate. Their faces were pale, eyes hollow, several had minor cuts and bruises like Neville and he stared horrified at what had become of them. His once fellow classmates gazed at him with derision and looked to Potter for answers.

Harry ran a hand over his face, Ginny Weasley at his side, completely exasperated by the problems that arose with bringing Draco along.

Seamus Finnigan, his face betraying none of his sentiments towards Draco, turned to Harry. “And just what the bloody hell is he doing with you?”

~

It was daunting. Snape’s hand was grasped around Ember’s bicep dragging her along the shrubbery of Malfoy Manor. He gave her a slightly sympathetic look, as sympathetic as Snape could look, and squeezed her arm reassuringly once before tossing the door open and guiding her roughly to the sitting room she was quite familiar with.

The sight was ridiculous. Voldemort was sitting on the settee holding one of Narcissa’s dainty tea cups with his thin fingers. One leg was crossed over the over, baring his naked feet for all to see. 

Lucius sat off in the arm chair on the far side of the room, Narcissa standing obediently behind him. Walden Macnair sat gangly in the remaining chair while Wormtail cowered next to the fire place.

Voldemort’s cup was half way to his dramatically chapped lips when Snape yanked Ember into the room, ceasing all conversation.

“Look who I found,” Snape drawled. His eyes were their usual dark brown and unfriendly, his face showing nothing of his coercion, but if one had looked close enough, had known him enough, they would have noticed that the grip with which he held Ember by was severely lacking of any sort of heat.

For good measure, he tossed her forward just enough to where she stumbled and fell to her knees before all of them. Slowly, she glanced up behind strands of her hair into those red snake-like eyes that were blown wide with astonishment; the only part of him that outwardly looked shocked at this turn of events.

Voldemort slowly lowered his teacup back into its saucer and placed them both on the side table. It was so proper and so graceful that it unsettled Ember further. This anger was not the boisterous kind, but slowly and festering, where no inclination was given to the thoughts of his violence. He uncrossed his legs and raised off the settee to his full height, towering over her crumpled frame.

“Enigma. How…curious of you to find your way back here.”

It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t answer.

“Ember, where’s Draco?” Narcissa urged desperately.

Voldemort’s eyes shined black as they flashed to Narcissa. “Hold your tongue!” He spat and Ember saw Narcissa flinch at the scorning from the corner of her eye.

His slit for eyes travelled back to the small figure on the floor before his feet before landing back on Snape. “How has this happened, Severus?”

Snape’s shoulders rolled back as he met the Dark Lord’s eyes evenly. “She was found in Hogsmeade, My Lord.”

Voldemort’s eyes glanced back down at her studiously. She held his stare as valiantly as she could, no longer willing to let him know that he intimidated her. “Was she alone?”   
He asked crisply, his eyes still not leaving hers.

“Yes.” Snape intoned carefully. He waited a moment longer as the Dark Lord carefully dissected a statuesque Ember, before muttering, “I’m needed back at the school.”

Voldemort gave him no glance, unwilling to break the eye contact before Ember did, but nodded his consent passively.

Snape left through the entry way almost as fast as he appeared, leaving Ember alone to the vipers.

Voldemort lithely squatted down slowly so that his eyes were just level with hers. “And why were you so close to Hogwarts, my dear?”

She did not answer. She did not remove her gaze even though her heart was pounding and she felt her soul being tainted by such a soulless stare.

“Where is Draco?”

She remained unyielding.

Voldemort tilted his head, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Tell me, did you lose your voice on your misadventures?”

When she still didn’t answer, he reached out and twisted her ear. She cried out, breaking their profound stare, and reached for her ear. “Ahh, so you can speak Enigma.”

He snatched her left arm in his, yanking it painfully as his wand pushed up the sleeve of her grey dress from her arm. He stared at the still slightly mangled skin that had once surrounded his dark mark and danced his eyes over the place it had been, where now only a delicate blue flower remained. He scowled. “Seems I underestimated you. Something that will not be happening again.”

Ember swallowed deeply as inconspicuously as she could and raised her eyes to his once more. He was too close to her, possibly the closest his face had ever been to hers and she could see tiny veins swerving underneath his transparent skin.

It happened abruptly without any signs. The pressure was excruciating as he invaded her mind. She bit her tongue, tasting raw blood fill her mouth.

He flipped through her mind as best he could. Her mind was unlike any other, always clouded and unmappable, untraceable, but he found what he was searching for- what she knew he’d be searching for.

She showed him fabricated images, fabricated memories, of false strain between her and Draco. How they had parted in a heated argument, his lean back walking away on a path in Hogsmeade. How Snape had found her, startled by the alarms of the village, before capturing her and apparating her here with nary a word. 

He leaned back, breaking from her mind, but still did not drop her gaze as he demanded, “Macnair, fetch some Obsidiaferno.”

The tension did not break as Macnair disappeared from the room and returned a moment later with a thin black potions bottle in his hands. Voldemort shifted his arms up, letting his black robes fall down to his elbows, and accio’d the bottle to him. Roughly, he grabbed both of her hands and clasped them with each other before unstopping the bottle and dashing the potion onto her wrists. 

It burned. A great fire sunk into her skin and eviscerated her veins. She screamed with her lips closed, trying to separate her hands to no avail. The black solution seeped into her pale skin as Voldemort spoke quickly in Latin, his wands placed in the space between them. She felt all her bones slide into a locked position, almost like her sense of gravity had been removed and now latched herself to Voldemort. 

He lowered his wand, smiling cruelly at her. “Do you understand what I just did?”

Slowly she shook her head, feeling the sting of painful tears at the corner of her eyes, even though she did have an unfortunate inkling of what it might have meant.

“It means, Enigma. That I have bound you to me. There shall be no escape for you this time, however clever you might be.”

~ 

It seemed to Draco that he would be followed by untrustworthy glances perpetually for the rest of his days. A reasonable atonement that in the following years would be of little consequence to his psyche. Even now, he couldn’t blame them, it was only the repetition of such gazes that grated on his thinning nerves.

Luna, Neville, Seamus, Dean Thomas, and Ron were speaking hurriedly amongst each other as if devouring a fallen piece of prey after debating on the morality for hours. Hermione had already scurried beneath the invisibility cloak, that Draco found very interesting, to sneak into the restriction section of the library in the hopes of finding anything, besides the sword of Gryffindor, to destroy the remaining horcruxes. 

Draco stood out of everyone’s way, waiting patiently with his arms crossed over his chest and his shoulder leaned against the wall as Harry whispered passionately to Ginny. To say that Draco’s interest was piqued, to know that Potter had started courting his best friends little sister, was only a slight understatement. It hit him then, as he looked on at the struggling students, how little he knew about his peers outside Slytherin House. Granted, they didn’t know the inner workings of the Slytherin population either, but it was odd to place together puzzle pieces that seemed as if they were too jagged to connect. A vast cavern separated Slytherin from the rest. Draco had always assumed that it had been because they were superior, but now, after discovering everything he knew, he wished that gap had been smaller. He wished that he had had this comradery in spades as they did. It was awful, wanting something he couldn’t have, and tasted bitter.

Harry, hands still clasped with Ginny’s, ignored Ron’s disgruntled look in favor of Draco’s bemused one. He scowled at the blonde but tilted his head towards the portrait hole. Draco pushed off the wall and followed, even managing to bit his tongue at Potter’s love life.

The three of them stealthily sneaked up a level higher to the seventh floor. The room in which they appeared was a diverted room from the Room of Requirement. Before they had sealed up every secret passage way into the castle, Neville, with the help of Aberforth, had asked the room for a separate space so that there would be no question as to what had happened to the Room of Requirement when their safe haven was filled. The room granted it to them easily, growing a separate limb the floor below with its own entrance.

The halls were desolate and very much removed of the certain whimsy that always filled the castle. The magic that made the school had been stolen, sucked away until all that remained was a prison of children oppressed. 

Getting up and into the Room of Hidden things wasn’t the problem. It was what they were met with when they entered that made everything all the more difficult.

Crabbe and Goyle were placed right inside the door, nothing more than gargoyles, their wands raised unsteadily at the intruders. They had in the recent weeks been charged with guarding the room under the demand of their parents, or more truthfully, Voldemort, and therefore they had been expecting Harry to enter but their faces were obviously stumped to find Draco at his side.

Harry had already held them at his own wand point, Ron not far behind him, but Draco was just as stumped as the friends of his past were.

“Draco, mate, what are you doing?” Goyle hissed, not lowering his wand, his eyes aggrieved. 

Draco unsheathed his own wand, aiming it at his once friends that were always more of minions than anything else. It was nice to see that they hadn’t changed much in the past, defining, year. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Harry’s eyes flickered from boy to boy, clinging desperately to the idea that Draco wouldn’t switch sides. It was the first test of his allegiance that they had come across. It was bound to happen sometime, but both expected it to be in a different, more consequential, form. “He told you to be here, didn’t he?” Draco asked without any false pretenses. 

Crabbe and Goyle’s eyes shot to the boy with the scar. It was all the reveal Harry needed. “He wanted you to be here because he knew that we’d come.”

Draco sneered. “Funny how he chose you two instead of the bloody Carrows.”

“Traitor!” Crabbed yelled at him. “They told us what you did, you know. You let that little slut mess with you long enough to make you betray your family.”

He had had enough of the pleasantries. A jinx shot out of his wand so fast that he hadn’t even truly comprehended thinking it. Crabbe couldn’t block it, but Goyle did. “I didn’t betray anything. I only betrayed the false foundations of excessive rubbish. The two of you don’t even know what you are protecting! Put the wands down, step aside, and let us pass. This isn’t something to die over.” Draco commanded them hotly, his wand between them hostilely, completely steady.

As Draco distracted them with words, Harry subtlety urged Ron to step to the side. Slyly, the ginger got the hint and inched to the left as Harry eyed the large stack of nonsensical clutter towering behind the two goons.

“He gave us a mission. You don’t refuse the Dark Lord.” Goyle muttered much darkly than any of them thought he was capable of.

Draco scoffed. He hoped that he hadn’t sounded that idiotic when it was him that had been given a mission, but he doubted it. “He gave you this mission because it was convenient. Who the fuck else does he have to send into Hogwarts? I doubt you’ve even met him.”

Crabbed flushed angrily and gripped his wand tighter, prepared to knock Draco off his feet, but it mattered not. Harry had flicked his wand expertly, causing the tower of object to tumble down on the imbeciles. 

The three of them, Draco, Harry, and Ron, stepped back as Crabbe and Goyle fell beneath the objects with shouts and groans. Ron kept his wand pointed at the useless heap, and pressed for Draco and Harry to go further. “Go. I can handle whatever is left.”

Draco gazed at the heap only a second longer, before he grabbed the corner of Harry’s jacket and urged him towards the right. They had to jump over wayward piles that had collected on the ground due to Harry’s quick thinking, but Draco efficiently led them through the passage ways. The route was memorized like the back of his hand, yet brought on a world of nostalgia all the same.

As the two took another left, a gigantic boom was heard from way on the other side of the room. Both boys looked back over their shoulders as a growing light began flickering across the roof in the way flames would dance from a fire.

“Quickly.” Harry panted. “How far?”

“Just up here.” Draco puffed, taking two long swerving turns and coming to a stop at the edge of an ataxia mountain of objects. Harry almost ran into his back at the abrupt stop. “There,” Draco pointed. High, dangled almost precariously on a delicate royal blue velvet pillow atop a hundred different pieces of useless items tucked just behind the vanishing cabinet, was the lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. The blue jewel twinkled at them amongst its’ pewter set tiara and Harry felt he could hear his bones sing with an instinctual understanding that this was a horcrux.

Draco turned to look behind them, seeing the flames lick closer and closer to where they stood. “Go on Potter,” Draco reminded. “Haven’t much time left by the looks of it.”

Harry almost pouted at its position, but began to climb the drawers of forgotten things, leaving Draco on the smoking ground as his only source of protection. He nearly slipped amongst the tower of books but inched his way closer and closer to the top.

“Harry!” They heard Ron exclaim from far away and Draco felt his anxiety spike up his spine. They wouldn’t be able to walk out of this alive by the looks of it. There weren’t any windows to run to and without the possibility of apparation, they needed to find a way to get back to the door unscathed by the fire. 

He glanced around the space for anything that could help them, as Harry’s finger’s stretched beyond their means across the vast expanse of a few inches from the deceptively beautiful horcrux, and wistfully landed on the vanishing cabinet. He wished that it was reliable, but even if he could guarantee that it was, there was no one to summon them on the other side and no way of knowing if its twin was still standing in Borgin and Burkes. He shook his head and just then, in the midst of inhaling glorious amounts of smoke, Draco saw their escape. Two brooms older than the school itself laid droopily against the bottom of a corresponding tower.

Draco accio’d them to him just as Harry slid down to the ground with the diadem clutched tightly in his hands. He miscalculated the dismount and was about to fall flat onto his face and most likely break his glasses, when Draco reached an arm out and grasped him around his torso, quickly setting him on his feet. “Careful there, Potter.” He told him as he handed him one of the brooms.

Harry looked curiously at the broom he was handed but made no complaints as he heard the roaring flames devouring the great amass of kindling the room provided.

They both mounted the brooms easily enough and took off faster than ever before. Harry let Draco lead, considering that he should know how to evaluate and get back to the door faster than him. They both maneuvered as seasoned Quidditch players might, diving and twisting to avoid collateral damage or ingulfing flames, both idly wondering what had taken place between Ron and the henchman that would cause the whole of the Room of Requirement to be set ablaze.

And suddenly it was there, peaking from below the flames that had taken control of the right side of the room, the exit, dark and mindless, called to them. But as Harry sped up, he noticed that Draco had slowed to a stop. They boy who lived twisted to see what could have possibly have captured his attention only to notice Goyle clutching to a broken vanity for dear life.

Draco pivoted on a sickle, diving for Goyle and Harry let him do it. He whipped his wand sending aquementi towards a tower of fire close to incinerating the precarious findings Goyle clung to, allowing just enough of a reprieve for Draco to take hold of Goyle’s out stretched hand and let him cling onto the back of his broom.

Harry lost sight of them for a moment as they rounded a slowly dissolving column but met back up with them right before the door. Ron was standing just outside, nervously bouncing from one foot to the other as the three came barreling out of the room. He immediately shut the door behind them and let it dissolve back into the wall.

Goyle leaned too far right, having never been a fair flyer, causing Draco to lose control of the broom and they both collapsed onto the cold ground of the seventh corridor. 

Harry steadily dismounted from his broom, grasping at his right breast pocket to make sure that he could feel the lump of the diadem. He panted slightly as he looked to Ron for an explanation. “What happened?”

Draco, once he stopped his momentum, saw the beginnings of Goyle trying to escape and quickly reached out to grab his wrist harshly. Goyle barely struggled before Harry whipped his wand out and sent a full body-bind curse to his sorry arse.

“When they both unearthed themselves, Crabbe tried sending fiendfyre at me but the idiot didn’t do it properly and nonstop fire started pouring out of his wand.” Ron explained. Draco laughed sardonically at the idiocy and tried to catch his breath and slow his racing heart as he stared up at the ramparts of the castle.

“Did you manage to get it before the flames did?” Ron asked. “Cause if not, I’m sure the fire couldn’t destroy the damned thing and we could go back in once its burned out.”  
“We got it.” Harry confirmed, revealing the diadem from his coat pocket.

Suddenly the slow scuffling of footsteps could be heard at the far end of the corridor. Harry and Ron quickly stepped out of the crossroads of the hallways and Ron answered the unspoken question, “It’s Filch.”

Harry reached down a hand to Draco. It was more than a simple hand and both knew it; it was the sealing of a peace treaty. They might never be able to be friends but Harry trusted him enough now to not second guess his motivations at every turn. Draco could have easily joined Crabbe and Goyle yet he remained true to his word through and through and proved himself enough to Harry as he solidifyingly remembered the wise words of Dumbledore spoken nearly seven years earlier: It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. Draco gave a slight nod and clasped his hand, letting Harry help haul him off the floor.

“The back stairs.” Harry hissed to Ron, who was still looking sneakily around the corner for the approaching Filch.

“We just going to leave him?” Draco whispered nodding towards the incapacitated Goyle. He didn’t want to ask about Crabbe, it was blaringly obvious that he hadn’t survived his own idiocy and Draco didn’t know how to feel about his long-time companion becoming nothing more than forgotten ash.

“Well we’re not dragging him with us, mate.” Ron said sarcastically with an eye roll.

“He’s right. We’ll have to take the risk and leave him here.” Harry agreed and the two began to head down towards the flight of stairs. Draco took one last glance at a paralyzed Goyle and swiftly followed the duo, still able to taste the flames in his mouth.


	43. The Coldness of Hell

“Maybe I would dress for the weather if I would feel better. But I have to tell them all I’m freezing, no matter the season.”  
-Sara Keys, No Matter the Season

Ember was always cold. After her patronus first encircled her, it was as if her bones could never quite get rid of the chill. It had become a part of her and something she didn’t complain about, but there in the drafty, dim, cellar, she was freezing. 

She couldn’t quite fathom what had happened to land her back in the disastrous cellar of Malfoy Manor. She’d been free, out in the world with every chance to explore it and she’d thrown it away to help a world that had never wanted her. She knew, even sitting on the damp floors with a severe chill running through her, that it was the right thing to do, but perhaps letting Snape convince her to play into Voldemort’s hand had not been.

Wormtail had thrown her down here none too gently some hours earlier, leaving her with nothing but the horrible thought that she was now bound to the Dark Lord far worse than she ever had been before. She was sure that neither her nor Snape could have predicted this outcome, but it mattered not now. She had no ideas on how to break the bond and so she suffered with the knowledge that she had entangled her fate, and Draco’s, with that of the Dark Lord.

She had taken out the golden coin that had been trapped by lace and skin and trailed her fingers over it longingly. She hated to think of what Draco would think of her. What he would do when he realized that she would not be making it to the rendezvous. She had sent as simple of a message as she could when left alone in the cellar. It had taken nearly fifteen minutes to dial in trust me into the coin. She could only hope that he would eventually get her meaning and that he wouldn’t worry too much.

The significant sound of the gears unlocking at the front of the cellar pricked at Ember’s ears. She wasn’t expecting any visitors until at least tomorrow, and was extremely cautious of who it might be behind the door. The single window on the top left told her that it was evening, but she had no idea how long she had been sitting alone with her thoughts, only that it had been long enough to make her legs go numb. 

Ember was huddled against one of the structural posts, with her eyes trained on the only entrance. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised to see Narcissa’s sharp face behind the door, but doubted that her master knew she was down here with the likes of her. The woman looked her over quickly, with some emotion Ember couldn’t quite place in her eyes, and entered before softly shutting the door behind her.

She said nothing as Narcissa made her way to her. The woman seemed nervous and cast ghastly looks over their surroundings as if it had been Ember’s choice of shelter and not her own dusty property. She looked around her, for a chair or anything to sit on, before coming up without anything and scornfully lowering herself to the floor just in front of her captured daughter-in-law.

“Ember,” The woman breathed out deeply. In shame or relief, Ember couldn’t decide. “Do you know where my son is?”

It figured that Narcissa would come down not to check up on her, but for information on her son. If Ember knew anything about Narcissa, it was that she had the motherly unyielding love and concern for her son that Olivia Knight did not have for her. Ember found it suffocating, but perhaps that was only because she had never been in such an equation.

“I don’t know where he is exactly at this moment in time,” Was Ember’s raspy reply. After not using her voice in hours, her throat would protest anything but water. 

Narcissa leaned forward, her eyes desperate. “But is he safe?”

Ember frowned, plagued by very similar worries. “As much as he can be.”

Narcissa breathed out a sigh of relief and her pinched shoulders relaxed, if only an inch. She leaned back slightly, as if she was now prepared to endure in normal coffee and tea time with her daughter-in-law and not on the cold ground of her underground cellar. “What happened? Why did the two of you disappear?”

Ember studied the woman for a long moment. Could she really not conclude to why they had left? “We had to.”

Narcissa’s brows pinched together as she struggled to comprehend. “Had to?”

“This place was ruining us both. I didn’t drag your son with me. He decided to leave on his own. He finally realized that when you live at Malfoy Manor, you have no one to watch your back.”

“That’s not true.”

Ember scoffed, pointedly looking around at her current circumstances. “Is it not?”

Her face formed into a confused, defensive, pout. “We did everything for him. We gave him everything. Lucius and I love him.”

Ember coughed the dust from her lungs. “Please excuse my derision, but I’m in no attitude to reign in my displeasure.” She straightened her back and crossed one ankle, stretched before her, over the other. “You let your son become a pawn in a great magnitude of a game. For all the wrong reasons, you let him believe that his tasks were gifted to him on his merit alone. How could you not realize that he was set up for failure, that you helped set him up for failure-”

“I made sure that Severus had everything handled in the result of-”

“Snape?” Ember bit out, not too keen on the man herself after the day she had. “You not only let Draco believe that he was a chosen one, but you undermined your confidence in him from the beginning. It was you that gave him no choice.”

“That’s unfair.”

“No it isn’t.” Ember quickly refuted. “You took away any worthwhile choice he might have had with the company that you keep. You took away his education. You took away his choice for future employment. You took away his choice for a wife. You took away his life without any remorse or concern for his own sanity. Is it so absurd that he would eventually want to take matters into his own hands?” She softened her voice if only slightly, her hard eyes mollified around the edges. “I understand that it might be difficult for you to grasp, but your son is so intelligent and only ever wanted to please you and Lucius, but some things cross lines that you don’t know are lines until you’ve crossed them. Is it so wrong that Draco might want to carve a place in the world out for himself?”

Where a moment before Narcissa was prepared to gruel the girls presumptions with words of her own, she was now silent. Ember’s eyes slowly cast down between them, almost resembling that of a dejected puppy or perhaps a misguided loner who was drastically wondering when they had become the main character of the story. “Now, if you’d be so kind, please leave me to this cellar alone.”

Narcissa thought about staying, just to try and refute her claims more, but suddenly felt as if anything she said would not be adequate and might even prove Ember’s point more than her own, so with nothing more than a glance she stood up from her cramped state and made her way back to the door.

Ember sighed with little relief, the pulse that had formed in her head rejoicing with the fact that she would be left only to her thoughts once more, but held her breath when Narcissa’s hand paused on the handle after she opened the door. She reached back to where Ember knew the stairs to be, and flicked her wand back towards the girl.

A goblet and folded cloth floated calmly over to her and Ember met the eyes of her mother-in-law gratefully. The woman stared back with sadness, before breaking eye contact and fleeing up the stairs, careful to lock the cellar behind her. 

The silver goblet was filled with water that Ember gulped appreciatively, relishing in the soothe it gave her sore throat and unfolded the cloth to reveal two small pieces of bread and a square of cheese. She devoured the small meal in minutes, desperately waiting for it to settle in her empty stomach. She wished numbly that Narcissa had also thought to bring her a blanket as the cellar was dropping degrees every passing second, but Ember figured that she should count herself lucky to have anything at all.

Selfishly she wished Draco was with her so that she could cuddle up and share in his warmth and comfort. But she was glad that he wasn’t. She had succeeded in extracting him from this toxic environment and she would hate herself if she was the reason he returned. Squeezing her eyes shut tight to keep any tears from forming, she brought her knees to her chest. She was disappointed in Snape. She supposed that it wasn’t really his fault that she was trying to find slumber in what was more or less a dungeon- she was the one that had agreed to his suggestion. Still, she couldn’t help but doubt his motives. He was an exceptional liar and even though his story had been convincing enough, she still wondered what side he was truly on and if she had been a fool to accept his recommendation.

Her thoughts became as numb as her fingers. There was no telling what would happen now. Maybe she would be left here to be forgotten for months. She wanted to tell herself that that was as melodramatic as Draco, but it had happened before. She had been left, forgotten, for years. It was a miracle that she had been allowed a second chance at life.  
She didn’t think that she would be allowed another miracle. And worst of all, this time, she had no one to blame but herself.

And so she waited, lonely and cold, for a time where she might be considered worthy enough to bring out of confinement; for a chance to leverage a situation to Harry’s and the world’s benefit. She waited for a time where this might all become a memory, easily falling back into her daydreams where she was warm and safe and loved.

Her heart throbbed, wishing that she had told Draco that she loved him while she had the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's really difficult to write Ember when emotions are involved because she doesn't think with emotions most of the time, and can't quite acknowledge or express them when she does, due to her upbringing and hazy brain. Hope everything is coming across the way that it's intended!


	44. The Miles Between

“We sat back and watched our legacy give way. What am I supposed to say? You go first, lying’s worse. This Dutch courage going to my head.”  
-Minke, Rest

The unlikely trio landed back on the outskirts of Shell Cottage at half-past eight. All were winded, having just barely escaped the clutches of Filch while running through the grounds to the Forbidden Forest to where they could safely apparate. It seemed to have been long enough past their expected return for the Order to have been worried as Hermione nearly flung herself at Weasley.

“I thought something might have happened when you hadn’t returned.” She confessed, when she broke away from a wonderstruck Ron, and glanced from Draco to Harry. “Did you get it?”

Harry nodded astutely wiping the sweat that was dripping down his nose.

Draco looked behind the brainiac entirely prepared to see Ember sat by the fire or engaged in a conversation with Fleur but he couldn’t find her through the blowing cloths of the tents and the bodies walking around the fire. “Where’s Ember?” He asked after a moment, causing Hermione’s relieved face to tighten.

She licked her lips, shifted from one foot to the other, and Draco held his breath. “She hasn’t come back yet,” Hermione admitted.

Even though he understood her words, he couldn’t help but continue to scour the campsite for a glimpse of green eyes. She had to be back. She trusted Snape so much that she had convinced him that it would be fine. He trusted her judgement enough to let her fly away from him and now she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

He didn’t realize that he looked as panicked as he felt, or that his breathing had turned irregular, until Harry spoke. “A million things could have happened.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.” Draco whispered breathlessly, finally tearing his eyes from his useless search and lethally training them on the trio. 

Hermione took a step closer to him at the look in his eyes; the desperation flowed out of his pores. “She could still show up. You three were later than expected.”

Draco felt like his thoughts were a step behind a wall of petrified emotion that confused his senses, and therefore it took him until then to reach for his pocket and rip out the gold coin. In his palm it began to shift in a message. Hermione narrowed her eyes indignantly. “Is that?”

“Yes I stole your idea Granger. It wouldn’t be the first time.” Draco spat half-heartedly as he waited for the dial to spell out the message.

She frowned slightly at the slight but let it pass considering he was clearly on the verge of an anxiety attack.

The three watched as the tension of his shoulders, the tightness of his knuckles, and his pinched face seeped out of him like a great sigh had taken over his soul.

“What’s it say?” Ron bravely asked after a moment.

Draco felt his heart throb painfully at the two words she left him with. Trust me. He didn’t know where this placed her, where she was or how she was fairing, but he knew that it would have had to have had something to do with Snape and that was a chilling enough thought. One thing was clear, she wasn’t coming back to the rendezvous tonight.

He gulped in the wake of the confirmation that she was out there on her own.

“Draco?” Harry urged, apprehensively.

He looked over to the expectant faces all leaning in towards him. “She’s…”

“Not coming back?” Hermione suggested hesitantly.

His face contorted upsettingly and he shook his head. “It just says, trust me.” He bit his bottom lip, his thumb continuously running over the remains of the message.  
“Something must have happened with Snape. If I went back to the manor I could probably figure it out.”

“No.” Harry stamped the idea out immediately. “You can’t go back there.”

“Why not?” Draco gritted out, the numbness he felt dissolving into barely bridled anger. “I got you your diadem. I’m of no further use to you.”

Harry shook his head solemnly. “That’s not true. And if you go back there and she’s not there, do you really expect any of them to let you walk back out? We’ll figure out what happened to her. Maybe she’ll be here tomorrow- we don’t know. She said to trust her and I think that’s what we need to do.”

Draco clenched his jaw stubbornly. “None of you get it.” He sighed aggravatedly, one hand clutching his dangling hair out of his eyes. “She’s…She can’t be alone. Especially with them. They-they treat her like a pet like a thing and she could have an attack or a memory and-” He sighed again, clutching at his chest. “She just can’t be alone.”

Harry and Ron exchanged a concerned glance as Hermione reached out and placed a hand on Draco’s arm. “What do you mean an attack or a memory?”

He swallowed heavily, half hunched over, and stared dejectedly in her eyes; only now realizing what he said and whom he had said it to. “Her parents. They were awful. They obliviated her entire life until they handed her over to us. She only has a few memories from before last year and she sometimes doesn’t know the simplest things.”

“Like the radio.” Ron interjected, realization dashing over his face.

Draco nodded. “She gets panic attacks if she gets too worked up. And You-Know-Who doesn’t know about any of that. We’ve managed to keep it from him but if she is with him and something happens…She just can’t be alone.” He persistently.

“That’s awful.” Hermione said calmly, looking into his eyes until he met her gaze. “But there’s nothing we can do for her right now without compromising something. She knew this was a possibility. Like Harry said, we’ll figure it out, but for now we need to keep our head on our shoulders.”

Those words, nearly identical to what Ember had told him before they stupidly parted, were what reigned in his emotions. His eyes unfocused from the group, but the stampede of distressed feelings dissipated slowly. They were right. It wouldn’t do to fall into rash actions and get him, them, into an even worse situation, but it was difficult not to panic.

~

He got no sleep that night. He hadn’t slept without her in nearly two years and suddenly the space beside him was empty and fingers were not clutched around his arm. Where her absence had been noticeable before, it now crushed him to where he could think of little else. He stared up at the draped curtains of the tent they had assigned them and wondered where she might be, and what Snape could have done to derail her. 

His thoughts constantly swirled around the vague figure of Snape, and when it became blindingly apparent that he wouldn’t be able to sleep, he got up and determinedly stepped away from the camp until he could apparate without alarming any one.

So, he couldn’t apparate home. He admitted that to go back to Malfoy Manor would be reckless and unproductive, but hunting down Snape at Hogwarts would give him the same satisfaction in a more clever approach.

Severus Snape wasn’t all that surprised when Draco marched into his office just after two in the morning. He was exactly how Ember had found him earlier that same day; sitting at his desk nursing a glass- this time holding firewhiskey. None of the three involved, Ember, Draco, and himself, had been particularly thrilled with the turn of events the day brought.

Draco slammed the door to the office behind him, holding his wand threateningly at the traitor of a Headmaster. His eyes were fierce as he glared down at the man, leaving no room for questioning. “Where is she?”

Snape sighed, “Please won’t you sit down for a drink?” He snapped sarcastically. “I’d love to entertain for the second time today.”

“I’m not going to ask you again.” 

Snape rolled his eyes and leaned back into his chair. “You’re not going to do anything to-” The sentenced died with a gasp and a clutch of his chest as Draco hexed him with a stinging curse. Snape gaped at the boy with disbelief, rubbing at the inflaming area of skin just below his neck. It was nothing serious in its damage, but it did teach Snape that he should not have called Draco intentions as a bluff.

He glared right back at the boy who had ice for eyes and was unrelenting. “Alright,” Snape ground out. “She’s with Him.”

Draco took another step forward, leaning over the desk and thrusting his wand pointedly. “Why?” He hissed with his nostrils flared. “Why would you send her back there when she trusted you?”

Snape laughed humorlessly. “It might have been my idea, but she agreed to it Draco.”

Draco physically took a step back at the assault. He was suddenly so confused that he was disoriented, his defensive stance fading for a moment as his face crumpled in distraction. “What?” His voice that had been so strong the moment before sounded transparent even to his own ears.

Snape glared at him, exhausted with all this petty drama and thinking fondly back to the days where he was only a potions professor. “She decided to go back, to work things in your favor.”

Draco shook his head, raising his wand back up threateningly. “Tell me everything now.”

“What do you want me to tell you? There’s nothing to say.”

Draco’s teeth grinded so hard together at his insolence that he felt that his molars would turn to dust at any moment. “I have no reason to spare you, Snape. What did you say to her? She never would have gone back without me, so how did you manipulate her?”

Snape stood up, still rubbing against the irritation in his chest. “One, you’re not going to do anything to me. And two, you’d be surprised how persuasive Ember can be on her own; she’s not as easy to manipulate as she once was.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

The Headmaster gave him a great look of disdain. “Put the wand down. You are too rash. She will be fine and from where she is she’ll be able to help Potter eventually.”

Angered at his underestimation and infuriated at his disregard for Ember’s well-being, Draco stepped further meeting him at the side of the desk, his wand pointed right underneath that pointed chin and long nose at his pulsating jugular. “And what is in this for you?”

“Me?” Snape asked sardonically. “I don’t get anything from any of this except to maybe get to drink alone in peace one day.”

“You might as well have killed her yourself.” Draco said evenly, his eyes narrowed, wand jutting into the thin skin of Snape’s neck. “Sending her back there, they will kill her.”

“No.” Snape drawled. “They will do everything but kill her.”

Draco failed to see how that was supposed to be an argument and seeing no further need to continue the conversation that was as vague as it was infuriating, he took a step back, but did not release his wands aim. “When this is over, if she’s permanently harmed in any way, I’m coming after you and I won’t be so lenient.” He warned, his voice so low that it left no room for doubts. “These past years have been rubbish, but one of the things I learned is that actions have direct consequences. I’ve had them, Ember’s had them, even my father has, and yet you…you just skate by stealing and stealthily manipulating your way into safety. I hate manipulators.” His wand flourished and he snapped passionately, “Stupefy!”

Snape, mind-boggled, flung into the row of potions kept behind him in neat shelves. His back hit with a loud crash, sending all the vials falling and shattering against the ground. Snape’s lanky body sprawled in the middle of the destruction- paralyzed.

Draco pocketed his wand and stepped until he was above the old professor. “You never should have underestimated me.” He said smugly, with a satisfaction nearly a year in the making.

~

The next morning, it seemed that Draco wasn’t the only one that hadn’t slept the night before. They all sat around the secondhand breakfast table, that had been brought out into the camp and enlarged to cater to the larger group, with dropped faces. Hermione sat with her hair in a frizzy ponytail, pouring over one of the books she had stolen from Hogwarts with swollen eyes. Harry sat with his head in his hands, stirring porridge mindlessly. Ron rested his head against his arms, his eyes closed, the only thing that reminded them that he was indeed awake was his occasional roaring yawn. Draco sat down next to Hermione heavily, for once feeling as if he fit in with them seamlessly. Arthur Weasley was heatedly discussing something next to the largest tent a ways off with Bill and Molly, but Draco didn’t have the energy to care.

Harry looked up at his appearance and, after staring at an occupied Ron and Hermione, nodded to the side. 

Draco wanted to bang his head repeatedly on the table. This exhaustion felt like a hangover without the fun of having drank alcohol. Merlin, don’t think about a drink right now.

He met Harry next to the front of Shell Cottage, glancing in through the window to see Fleur magically cleaning dishes in the sink, before looking to Harry. “What’s this about?”

Harry gave him a firm look. “Where did you go last night?”

He ran his hands down his tired face, only then realizing how badly he needed a proper bath when his hands came back gritty. “How’d you know?”

“I’m not sleeping. You were the only one who would leave the camp.” Harry looked at him unamused. “Now, wanna tell me where you went before I kick you out for failure to comply?”

Draco snorted at the diction. “I went to question Snape.”

“Snape?”

“Yeah. From what I could gather, he manipulated Ember into thinking that it was a smart idea for her to be back at You-Know-Who’s side for our cause.”

Harry tilted his head. “Well he’s not wrong, if she’s able to smuggle us information. But what would Snape get out of that?”

Draco shook his head languidly. “I don’t know.”

Suddenly, Hermione slammed her hand down on the open book in front of her, startling everyone in the vicinity. Her eyes searched for Harry, who looked a bit concerned for his wellbeing at the intensity of her gaze. Both he and Draco walked back over to the table. “I know why Dumbledore gave you the Sword of Gryffindor. I know why it destroys horcruxes.” She announced proudly.

Harry quirked a brow in interest and it was enough for her to continue. “It takes in that which makes it stronger.”

“That’s great and all ‘Mione,” Ron said, stifling a yawn. “But we lost the sword in the scuffle at Malfoy Manor with Bellatrix.”

She shook her head at him. “Yes, but that’s not the only thing that we know that destroys horcruxes. Harry,” She redirected, “You destroyed Tom Riddle’s diary second year with a basilisk fang after you stabbed it with the blade of the Sword of Gryffindor.”

Recognition ignited in Harry’s eyes and he suddenly sat down before her, glancing down at the passage she had been reading. “So since the basilisk was stabbed by the blade the fangs now take in what makes them stronger.”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

Ron groaned. “So we need to go back to Hogwarts? It was difficult enough with Ember’s distraction.”

Draco cleared his throat. “You said Aunt Bella has the sword of Gryffindor?”

“Yeah and she was strangely protective of the damn thing considering it’s a Gryffindor relic.” Ron griped.

Harry paused as the gears in his head began to turn. “She was terrified when she thought that it had been taken from her vault.”

“Harry, you don’t think…” Hermione started.

Harry looked to her. “That if she thought the sword of Gryffindor was in her vault that another horcrux might be hidden in it as well? Yeah, I do.”

Draco stared dumbfounded at the group. Was this how they got everything done in the past? Hermione’s wit and a shit-ton of luck?

Slowly they all turned to Draco, expectantly.

“What?”

“You think you could help us get into her vault?”

You’ve got to be fucking joking.

~

Ember was left alone in the cellar until the following afternoon. Her sleep had been difficult considering she shivered most of the night and wasn’t able to relax enough to fall too deep into sleep. She was a little concerned when the coin didn’t heat up. She hoped that everything went okay and that they were able to find the diadem and get out of Hogwarts undetected. She thought Snape would leave them be, but he would always be enigmatic in his own pursuits.

She jumped when she heard the familiar sound of the door unhinging and was unpleasantly surprised when it revealed Bellatrix and Macnair.

Bellatrix looked as unhappy to see Ember as Ember was to see her. Gone was her usual swagger and teasing smirk and in its place was vivid derision. “Come now girlie, you’re coming with us.” She scowled as if it pained her to say.

“Why?” Ember asked reservedly.

Macnair narrowed his eyes. “Cause the Dark Lord said so.”

When Ember still didn’t make any moves to stand, Bellatrix snapped a wand, that wasn’t hers, causing sparks to shock along Ember’s skin enough to where she stood up with a heavy pout. Taking a deep inward breath, she walked towards the Death Eaters begrudgingly. 

The two led her back up the creaky stairs and into the main part of the manor. “Where are we going?” She asked.

“Stop asking questions.” Bellatrix spat.

It had been a long time since Ember had heard that phrase. She thought about asking more questions just to piss them off but reigned in the passive aggression. She didn’t need to make them despise her even more.

Her missions with Voldemort had always been easy for her if she just kept her head down and stood on the side; maybe she’d get through this just the same. Whatever this was.

Once they had walked through the atrium, Ember was surprised to see Lucius waiting for them patiently with two other Death Eaters at his side. He stared at her for a uncomfortable amount of time before leaning in and whispering something conspiratorial to Bellatrix. They argued in their normal way before Lucius backed off in a huff.

“Alright girlie, come along.” Bellatrix cooed condescendingly, offering her elbow in a very proper escorting fashion. Ember didn’t try to hide her look of disgust but looped her arm through Draco’s aunt’s without complaint.

Lucius shared another chagrined look with her before his lips pinched and he backed away. Before she way ready, Bellatrix turned on the spot and Ember was dragged along through space and time.

When they landed with a tiny whirl, it was the only time Ember truly felt sick from apparating. Her stomach, that was empty, twisted aggressively and she winced at the nauseating whiplash. She thought Bellatrix would release her arm, but when Ember went to separate, the woman just clawed her black nails into her skin through her sleeve and kept her at her side.

“Don’t say a word.” She whispered in her ear, and Ember flinched away as Bellatrix pulled them forward. Macnair and the two other Death Eaters following behind them.

It was only then that Ember took in their surroundings and realized that they were at the steps of Gringotts.


	45. What a Grim Place to Die

“It’s the fight, and the fight of our lives. You and I, we were made to thrive. I am your future; I am your past. Never forget that we were built to last.”  
-You Me At Six, Take on the World

It was dreadfully boring waiting for hours on end in high security vault.

Getting into Gringotts was surprisingly easy considering how Draco always described the goblins to be overly cautious and the bank to be the most secure place in the wizarding world besides Hogwarts. But that also could have everything to do with the fact that Bellatrix was a prime Death Eater and the goblins- well they were on the side of goblins.  
Bellatrix’s only hiccup was when she had to present her husband’s wand instead of her own, to which Ember had to hold in a snort. 

The vault was spacious enough; lined with gold and other riches, but it was sorely lacking for agreeable company. Bellatrix hadn’t told Ember why they were standing guard in the midst of her vault but it didn’t matter. Ember figured out that they were guarding something and most likely that something would be a horcrux. She stealthily sent the message Gringotts to Draco hoping that he or Hermione would figure it out.

She could only assume that Voldemort was beginning to catch on to Harry’s plan and that he was covering his basis with his remaining horcruxes. When really, if he was as smart as he claimed, he would have started protecting his horcruxes himself and not leaving it into the incapable hands of imbecilic Death Eaters. 

“You know, I never really got why he kept you around.” Macnair announced, lounging against a pile of gold.

Ember, who was sitting comfortably on one of the sloping steps, turned her gaze onto the crusty man. “Beats me,” She replied uninterestedly.

Macnair leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and tilting his head at her profile. “I mean the Dark Lord doesn’t really need any more protection and you can’t even use a proper wand.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that Walden.” Bellatrix interjected, glaring at Ember, making it quite obvious that she hadn’t forgotten how Ember had stumped her back at the manor.

Macnair gave her a curious glance but let the subject drop. The two other Death Eaters that had followed them on this little expedition sat in the back corner. 

Their names were Atkinson and O’Dell. Atkinson was a middle aged woman who lacked every type of attraction. Her face was wrinkled and perpetually crooked, her eyes placed too close together and the color of muddled water, her hair was a half grey and half mousy brown and stringed around her face. With teeth the shade of the dimmed gold surrounding them and her back hunched at the top, Ember couldn’t look at her for more than a few seconds before feeling nauseous. 

O’Dell was nothing special, except for the fact that he was younger than the typical Death Eater. Most of them were in their forties, having been young during the first war, and it was a rarity to see anyone younger than thirty- her and Draco being the exception- and yet O’Dell couldn’t have been older than twenty eight and was relatively attractive, leaving Ember to wonder where his connection came from.

“I suppose he feels more inclined to keep things he doesn’t understand close to his chest rather than leave it to chance.” Ember answered vaguely, finally understanding the phrase; to make ears bleed.

“But you’re purely defensive.” O’Dell interjected, standing up next to a leisurely pacing Bellatrix. “You couldn’t even retaliate if you tried.”

She remained subdued, neither confirming or denying his acute observation. “Hey, I agree. I wish He would see it as you do. That way I could be out of the way instead of sitting here wasting the day guarding something that none of us knows what it is.”

His lips formed into a tight line and he dramatically sat back down with a slight huff. “Who knows if Potter is even going to show,” Atkinson offered monotoned. 

“If he was, don’t you think the Dark Lord himself would be here instead of us? Nah. This is just some wild goose chase, mate.” O’Dell said rolling his eyes and scuffing the toe of his boot against the floor. “It’s a surprise he didn’t put the damn Malfoy’s down here instead of us. They’re so useless they’re practically perfect for such an ornamental task.”

Bellatrix hexed him, barely lifting a finger, causing his whole mouth to disappear in the shock of his life. “Don’t talk about my sissy like that!” She shouted. Ember raised a brow, clearly this experience was putting just as foul a taste in Bellatrix’s mouth as her own.

~

It was lucky that Griphook owed them a favor. Lupin had managed to track down the goblin relatively easily, and with the help of Bill, they brought the goblin back to the cottage he had vacated only days earlier.

Harry and Arthur struggled to have him see reason, but honestly their reasons were a little faulty. No one could just walk into Gringotts and into someone else’s vault. The grumbling goblin would only agree to help if he could keep the sword of Gryffindor. Harry argued that he couldn’t give him something that he didn’t have, but Griphook took it on good faith that they would find the sword in the Lestrange vault.

The plan was simple, if a little insane. Draco was going to walk into Gringotts with the altered faces of Ron, Bill, and Hermione acting as his posse of Death Eaters asking to get into the Malfoy vault. While Draco distracted, Harry and Griphook would imperio the unlucky goblin assigned to them from underneath the invisibility cloak. When they got far enough down, they would switch from the track to the Lestrange’s vault instead of the Malfoy’s.

Draco was incredibly leery of the plan. He had just been to Gringotts just months prior and thought it would look suspicious for him to go strutting back in with a proposed gang of Death Eaters in his wake. His concerns fell on deaf ears since they all believed that it was almost certain that a horcrux was in it. He only agreed without complaint when his coin heated up and informed him of the simple word; Gringotts- that was all the encouragement he needed.

“The only reason she would know about Gringotts is if He was catching on.” Hermione declared.

“Or if she’s somehow back on his side.” Ron grumbled sassily.

“She isn’t.” Draco growled.

“As far as we know she’s not there willingly,” Harry curtly reminded him. “It was a strong possibility that Snape would deliver her back to Him.” He turned his gaze back to Draco, who was still fumbling with his coin. “That’s good actually. If she can keep sliding us messages, maybe we can stay a step ahead of this.”

“And,” Hermione huffed, glaring at Ron, “She wouldn’t be sending us messages if she had switched sides.”

“She would if she’s trying to lure us!” 

“She’s not!”

“Quit it!” Bill shouted. “It doesn’t matter. We need to get into the vault whether or not she’s possibly luring us into an ambush. So, for everyone’s sanity, we are not going to ignore the facts that we have that all point to her still being loyal to us.”

And, with that, it was settled and the following morning they all set off for Gringotts.

Bill and Ron were magicked into looking older than they were; with long facial hair and beady, swollen, eyes. They looked so similar with blacked hair that they joked that it must have been how the twins felt all the time. With Bill’s long scar, they very much could be mistaken for Death Eaters to anyone that wasn’t already a Death Eater. Hermione was dressed in layers upon layers of black clothes to give her body a more lumpy shape. Her hair was darkened and her nose was twisted so that it was crooked and disfigured her whole face. Draco approved of the changes. He was slightly offended that this was what they thought Death Eaters looked like, but when he thought about what the majority of the Death Eaters actually did look like- well they weren’t wrong.

The group got in easily enough. The goblins were only slightly suspicious that Draco had come in with an entourage, but he had the right name and the right wand and was given admittance. It was only on the way down to the vaults that Harry imperio’d the goblin leading them and he and Griphook revealed themselves from the invisibility cloak.

Harry had to pronounce Lestrange Vault to the goblin who acted no smarter than your average garden gnome three times before Griphook took the matters into his own hand. He searched the dopey goblin for the master key and inputted the proper coordinates.

The grand team dismounted the trolley awkwardly and ever so slowly the dazed goblin led them down a drafty corridor before stopping just outside a massive domed door. He sturdily set down the lantern he was carrying before staring dumbly at the door. Griphook had to yank the goblins long pointed finger nail towards the door before trailing it in the door in a very particular line. The outward gears started turning and a sounding swoosh let them know that the door was pressing open.

~

The door opened to reveal two sets of equally shocked parties.

On the one side, the side that was currently in the actual vault; Bellatrix, Ember, Macnair, Atkinson and O’Dell were thrown off their lazy dispositions. After hours upon hours of waiting for anything to happen, they had all become desensitized.

On the other, the side with the large band of misfits led by one boy-who-lived, had not anticipated that the owner of the vault would be present, much less three other Death Eaters and the girl who had failed to meet them at the rendezvous two days prior.

For a moment, just a brief moment, both groups were frozen before an all-out blitz broke out. Bellatrix of course was the initial instigator, quickly managing to disarm Ron before throwing a jinx at Hermione, sending her flying into the wall with a sickening crack.

Harry disarmed Macnair expertly before advancing into the room, half of his attention on the dueling and the other half hoping the horcrux that he knew was in there would call out to him. Draco leaned forward and yanked the distracted curly haired boy down to the floor, them both narrowly avoiding a curse shot from O’Dell. Bill sent a hex flying over their heads only to be deflected by Atkinson.

Curses went flying and Griphook left in a puff of grey smoke. The stitched together members of the Order deflected most of them well enough, but Ember who stood on the back steps of the vault wasn’t going to give them an opportunity to truly get hurt. She ground her feet into the hard stone and tightened her core before throwing her hands out and shooting her patronus so that it covered the group in a fortified protective hue.

Bellatrix turned on the spot, her nostrils flaring and her eyes murderous, before she shot a jinx to Ember’s leg effectively sweeping it out from underneath her. Ember crashed to the ground, banging her head harshly on the steps. With her concentration forfeited, her patronus faded off the group, but not before two very important things happened.

Draco instinctually started for Ember the second he saw her go down and therefore didn’t see that Atkinson had levitated Ron into the air before slamming him against the wall nearest the Death Eaters, sending gold pieces scattering. It distracted Bellatrix just long enough for Bill to cast the killing curse directly at her abdomen.

The psychopathic witch froze, as if all the air had been suck out of her, before the green light flashed and she dropped to the ground, dead.

Macnair, Atkinson, and a limping O’Dell, seeing that they were outnumbered and mistaking a slightly unconscious Ron for Harry Potter, apparated out of the vault with a snap.

Those remaining in the vault stopped at the disappearance with panting breaths. It took a moment for them to digest that Bellatrix Lestrange lay dead in her own vault and that Ron had been taken.

Ember groaned loudly as she sat up from the position Bellatrix had knocked her down to, to realize that the said woman laid dead just before her and she was now left alone in the vault with the others. Draco ran to her, not even caring that he banged up the knees of his trousers in his rush to her side. He grasped her biceps in his hands and bent down so that he was level with her eyes. “Em, are you okay?”

She nodded, staring past him at the lifeless body. He followed her gaze but quickly tore his eyes away. He couldn’t think about his dead aunt with Ember finally back in his grasp. Ember’s eyes met Hermione’s, then Harry and Bill’s, before she quickly stood up, not even acknowledging Draco’s helping hands. 

She spoke quickly, her eyes frightened, paying little mind to Draco’s hand on her elbow. “A horcrux is in here, somewhere. I’m not sure if the sword is or not, but the horcrux has to be. He knows that you’re hunting them.”

“Wow, wow Em, slow down.” Draco implored. Her words were spewing out of her mouth faster than he had ever heard her.

She looked at him with a shake of her head. “I can’t. I have to get back.”

His grip tightened on her. “No.” He said stubbornly. “What are you talking about? Whatever Snape told you is fucking rubbish.”

Her breaths were coming out in quick succession and she gripped Draco back just as tightly as he was griping her. “I have to go before He comes here. Snape and I miscalculated. He bound me to him so that I couldn’t run off. If I don’t get back there now, he’s gonna come looking for me.” She looked back to the group. “He’s probably going to come back anyway.”

“Ember…” Draco breathed, horrified, a million thoughts running through his mind in a clouded array of bafflement. 

She shook her head at him, giving him a false smile that was meant to be reassuring. “It’s okay.” She looked over Draco shoulder to Harry. “I’ll watch over Ron. We’ll be okay. Finish this as fast as you can. I’ll help however I can.”

Harry nodded, opening his mouth, but no words came to him.

Her eyes flicked back to Draco, his brows shadowing his diamond eyes, his mouth dropped open in astonishment. She squeezed his wrist before pulling away from him. “I love you, okay?” The words said so lightly were heavily blanketed over him, leaving his heart to leap before consequently shattering as she apparated before he could even try to utter the reciprocate.

The vault was silent for an indiscernible amount of time.

“How did any of them apparate?” Bill asked, confused, as Harry suddenly crossed the room, turning this way and that; his eyes scouring the room of gold.

“I think…” Hermione started, a shocked look still capturing her face. “I think if the rightful owner is in the vault, you can apparate to or fro.”

Bill nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he took a step towards Harry. “Can we help?”

Harry shot his hand out with frustration. “Just, everyone shut up.”

His command rang composure. The four of them left in the vault stayed silent as Harry began to climb the top sloping steps twisting slowly at the hips. 

Draco, still trying to process that Ember had finally told him that she loved him, finally looked towards his aunt. Her chilling eyes were still open and staring at the ceiling as if she was nothing more than a doll. He squatted down and slowly covered her eyes. She was an awful person, and the world would rejoice in her demise, but she had been a good sister and a good aunt.

“There!” Harry shouted, suddenly sprinting towards a golden cup kept high in the left hand corner. Once he was able to grasp the cup in his sweaty hands, he slid back down, landing primly on his feet, and grinned at his compatriots only to have the grin melt off his face a second later.

Their faces all pale, all in various degrees of grief, stared blankly at him as if he was some messiah.


	46. The Art of Necromancy

“I won’t just survive. Oh, you will see me thrive. Can’t write my story, I’m beyond the archetype. I won’t just conform, no matter how you shake my core, cause my roots they run deep. Oh, ye of so little faith…”  
-Katy Perry, Rise

Ember transported herself back to the manor. Only when she landed did she realize that her reasoning behind the location had been none, except for that it was where she was being kept and supposedly still ran as the main hub for the Death Eaters.

She opened the front door quietly and stepped across the threshold to hear shouts sounding from the dining room. She entered quickly to see Macnair and O’Dell still held Ron by his elbows and were in a heated debate with Lucius and Narcissa, who looked to have been in the middle of dinner. Why they still insisted eating on fancy china in a fancy dining room when the literal world was on fire was beyond her.

“Ember!” Lucius snapped when he saw her standing in the doorway. “Is it true?”

She froze, still taking in the room. Macnair and O’Dell had turned slightly, just enough for that Ron could look up at her blearily, while Atkinson stood behind them, her eyes terrifyingly still. Ember opened her mouth but was unsure what question was actually being asked.

“Is my sister dead?” Narcissa asked, much more calmly than should have been realistic, but her eyes- her eyes were black pits of potential destruction.

“Yes,” Ember answered carefully. “Bellatrix is dead. She died in her vault.”

“Is she still there?” Narcissa whispered.

Ember nodded.

“Why are we bloody talking about Lestrange when we should be calling the Dark Lord here?” Atkinson announced shrewdly. “We have fucking Harry Potter.”

“That’s not Harry Potter,” Both Ember and Lucius said at the same time.

O’Dell narrowed his eyes, thrusting the sleeve of Ron jacket up, “Whatdya mean this isn’t Harry Potter?”

“That’s Ron Weasley.” Ember answered, giving Ron only the passivist of glances. 

Macnair and O’Dell shared a deeply concerned look as Atkinson glared at Ember. “You couldn’t have mentioned that before?”

Ember looked at them incredulously. “You mean the split second before you stole him? Sorry there wasn’t time, with my head being smashed to the ground or anything. Not that I would hand Harry Potter over to you anyway.”

Lucius rounded the table. “Tell me that you didn’t already call him here.” He demanded, knowing that somehow the responsibility of this mistake would ultimately fall onto his shoulders.

“Of course we did.” O’Dell answered shrugging his shoulders hotly.

“You fools!” Lucius spat, throwing his goblet against the wall.

“We had Harry Potter!” Atkinson argued.

Lucius’s face blanched angrily at their idiocy. “But you didn’t, did you?!”

Just then, Voldemort strode through the dining room, with Wormtail trailing after him, spooking Ember enough to move out of his way. He gave her a curious look before ignoring her altogether and striding towards the three Death Eaters he was thoroughly prepared to promote.

Ron glanced up at Voldemort and saw him clearly for the first time in his life. His heart sped up in his chest and his mouth dropped open. Harry had vaguely described what the half man-half monster had looked like but his descriptions could never have prepared him for the real thing. And as the Dark Lord looked at him, he saw recognition in his eyes that he was in fact not Harry Potter.

Suddenly, Lucius stalked forward, trying to intervene. “They’ve made a grave mistake My Lord in calling you here tonight. I-“

“You nothing.” Voldemort hissed, finally taking his eyes from Ron’s and staring at a gulping Lucius. “Where is Bellatrix? She would not have allowed this.”

He looked across the faces in the room which all failed to meet his gaze. “I will not ask again,” He threatened.

“She’s, ah,” Macnair started gravely. “She’s dead master.”

Voldemort’s face became infinitely more like carved stone as he rose to his full height, staring at Macnair’s drooping face before shifting it to Atkinson and O’Dell before finally landing on Not Harry Potter. His jaw tightened, and Ron could see the fury flare up in his red eyes, before he swished around on his bare heels and glared mercilessly at Ember.

He stalked over to her with deathly perceptive steps, his shoulders gradually hunching over until he resembled an angry cat. “Enigma,” He ground out between his razor sharp teeth. It was the dangerously low tone that caused Ember to truly fear him in a layered way that she hadn’t since the first time she had been alone with him. “How is it that Bella is dead and here you stand?”

He reached out like a phantom, grabbing her chin in his long fingers and squeezing hard. His long dirty nails began to pierce her skin and she gasped at how close his face was to hers. “Have I failed in imparting your tasks? Have I been unclear what your use is? You are a shield. What good is a shield if my members are slaughtered in your presence?”

All the questions seemed rhetorical and therefore Ember remained silent, barely even squirming in his grasp, but she kept her eyes raised to the monster before her.

“ANSWER ME!” He hissed menacingly, with pure venom.

Ember whimpered as he rattled her. She had never seen him this upset, this murderous, and ever so slowly the protective layers of importance of her gift were dissolving before her and her worth to him was drastically declining; she could see it in his eyes. He could slaughter her here right in the middle of the dining room and it wouldn’t matter in the slightest. She felt her eyes water; whether because of her precarious situation or the raging emotions flooding her, she wasn’t sure. Her throat felt swollen, but she forced out unsteadily, “I-She-I was knocked unconscious. I didn’t realize she was attacked until it was too late.”

He studied her face for a long moment. It was the only time in recent events he had seen such emotion emanating from her and he examined it thoroughly before he let go of her chin. Her shoulders dropped as her breathing came in pants.

She thought that she might have been spared; that he might have seen that she was truly telling the truth. All hope was shattered when Macnair interjected, a sneer on his face, “She shielded them master. A tussle broke out and she shielded them. Bella knocked her to the ground to break the shield.”

Voldemort, who had been turning away from her, slowly swiveled back giving her an unreadable expression. His eyes blank of anything, he tilted his head towards her.   
“Wormtail.”

The strike came without a warning. Wormtail stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face, sending her head whirling to the right. When she reached up to cup her throbbing cheek, Wormtail sent a punch to her gut causing her to fall to her knees. The abuse did not stop there, the tip of his boot was thrust against her ribs and she cried out in pain as imperfect kicks rained upon her from the stubby rat-like man.

Ron watched in consternation and hadn’t even realized that he had unconsciously began to struggle against the Death Eaters holding him. Ember had folded herself into a ball as blow upon blow was bestowed upon her, the range soon getting closer and closer to her head. No respite was given to her.

Voldemort turned back towards him, his eyes narrowed in curiosity, still listening to the cries of the girl behind him. “Enough Wormtail,” He called, bored, after a moment. 

Wormtail’s boot stopped in mid-air and slowly lowered back to the ground. “Yes, master.” He confirmed with only a slight stutter.

“I suppose we should dispose of this.” Voldemort stated calmly, as if he was talking about taking out the bins and not Ron’s unsecured fate.

Lucius was just about to protest, when Ember’s voice croaked out. “I wouldn’t do that.” She tasted the rust of blood in her mouth, but knew better than to heal her face or her most definitely broken ribs at that moment.

Voldemort’s eyes hardened. “And why is that, Enigma?”

Ember’s eyes met Ron’s briefly as she brushed the dribbling blood from the corner of her lip. “Because he’s Harry Potter’s best friend.”

Voldemort’s face smoothed at the information. He inclined his head towards Lucius without removing his eyes from the wincing Ron. “Take them back to the cellar.”

“Yes, My Lord.” Lucius answered immediately with a small bow of his head. He walked towards Ember first and bent down. He gently grabbed her arm and began to help her get her feet underneath her. Ember was surprised to find that his eyes were soft when they looked at what had become of her face, that his grip was gentle but firm as he helped steady her, and that he wasn’t dragging her behind him, but leading her across the floor.

He pulled her towards Ron by the tuft of the sleeve of her dress on her shoulder and reached out to grasp the ginger tightly by his elbow. As he led them out of the dining room, Ember heard Voldemort command, “Go and retrieve her body.”

~

Lucius had let go of both of them as they made their way to the other side of the house, but kept a wand, Narcissa’s by the looks of it, drawn at their backs. Ember limped down the hauntingly familiar corridors and Lucius helped to support her balance as the filed down the stairs to the cellar.

Ron was the first to shuffle into the room when they reached the bottom and the door had been unlocked. Ember began to hobble in but paused when she felt her father-in-law’s hand grab her elbow benevolently. 

She turned, her body aching, and was met with unguarded blue eyes only a few shades darker than the ones she loved most. He looked no different from how he had the summer past, still the same pathetic shell of a once notoriously proud man, but as he stared at her, there was slight confliction in his eyes and his mouth opened and closed as if he was going to say something but couldn’t find the words.

He eventually sighed, letting his arm fall to his side. “I’ll make sure food and water is brought down.”

Ember didn’t remove her gaze from his face, even after he broke eye contact. “Thank you,” She whispered as he shut the door and slid the lock into place.

Slowly she twisted to her companion to see him leaning against one of the pillars giving her a bizarre glance. She limped over to him and dragged him down to the cold ground with her. “Are you injured?” She asked prudently.

He held out his floppy wrist with a wince. “I think I sprained my wrist, maybe. It’s not too bad though.”

“Here,” She said softly, holding her hand.

Skeptically, he laid his fragile wrist into her palm and watched, mesmerized as her hands turned blue and the swelling pain all but vanished. When the glowing light faded back into her palms, she gave his hand back to him. Experimentally, he bent the joint and was relieved when it was good as new.

He looked over as she had moved and slumped against the adjacent post, her face positively drained. Bruises scattered across her face and legs and her lip was horrifically split open and still gushing blood. He sat silently as, slower than before, the blue hue of her mysterious patronus travelled over her entire body and grew in strength.

She almost looked as if she could have been sleeping. Her eyes were shut and her breathing was drastically slowed. It took a handful of minutes, him just staring at her curiously as the bruises began to fade and her lip stitched back together. When the patronus snapped back into her body, it was quick. She was still breathing deeply, her chest rising and falling hollowly, her eyes still closed, but he didn’t think that she was sleeping.

“Why didn’t you do that when Wormtail was beating you? Or, better yet, why didn’t you just shield yourself?” He asked curiously.

Her green eyes opened gradually and the green staring back at him unnerved him for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. “They figured out that if they beat me like muggles, it’s harder for me to control my patronus. I can’t anticipate the blows as well. At this point he wants to punish me and if I take that away from him it will only make matters worse for myself.”

Ron frowned. Her logic was strong, like Hermione’s, but it was tinged with a sadness he couldn’t comprehend.

“I’m sorry,” She spoke a moment later. “For telling them who you are, but if I didn’t he would have just killed you right there.”

He nodded. He hadn’t been concerned that she had interjected on his behalf, surprised that she was strong enough to speak at all due to her state, but not concerned.

“I’ll get you out of here.” She promised, her eyes drifting shut once more.

“How?” He scoffed. “I’ve been locked in here before. You can’t apparate in or out and I doubt I can garner much sympathy from our captors.” He stated sarcastically, banging the back of his head against the post desolately.

“I don’t know yet. I need sleep and to think. But we’ll make a distraction or something. You see an opening, you take it.” She said sleepily, her body curling into a ball and her breaths evening.

With her unconscious, Ron took the time to truly look over the girl. She was two years younger than him, but she had stood in front of Voldemort as if it was a regular occurrence. She was nothing more than a fragile girl who for some reason had allowed herself to be brought back to this manor and wasn’t avidly seeking an exit. 

An hour later she was staring back at him. Someone had brought them fruit while she had been asleep and she quickly devoured a green apple all the way to its core. Instantly she felt invigorated and only felt the bruising of her ribs when she shifted her position.

“I have a question.” 

She jumped slightly, having nearly forgotten Ron was down here with her. She coughed, her mouth still tasted of the acidity from the apple. “Alright,” She whispered.

He drew his arms over his chest and gave her a skeptical look. “You say that you have discovered this new form of apparation and that your magic works differently than ours.” 

Ember nodded her head in agreement. “Then, can you apparate us out of this room?”

She sighed, a little offended that he thought she hadn’t already thought of that. “I’ve already tried. Apparation boundaries still apply to me like any other.”

“But you said you can apparate to a person.”

“So?” She shrugged. “I can’t apparate to anyone from here, so the boundary still applies.” She pulled her hair off the back of her neck and rested her head on the pillar, closing her eyes. “Apparating to a person isn’t so different from normal apparation. You just think of the last time you physically touched the person, grab a hold of it in your mind’s eye, and let it guide you.”

“It’s really that easy?” He questioned dubiously.

She shrugged a shoulder. “For me it is. No one else that I know has tried it. Who knows, maybe no one else but me can do it.”

“So…Draco never tried it?” 

Ember’s eyes fluttered open at his misleading tone. Surely she wasn’t hearing what she thought she was hearing. Surely Ron hadn’t just showed an interest in Draco Malfoy personally. “No. Well, not that I know of anyway. We always just depended on me for apparating.”

“Which is hilarious.”

“Why?”

He frowned at her with a shake of his head. “Malfoy’s always had to be the best at everything. It’s hilarious that he’d allow you to take the lead on anything.”

Not for the first time, she wished that she had known Draco as they had- had known him all of her life. She only knew the Draco that had been broken down and put under so much pressure that he was nothing but a bundle of vulnerable nerves. He hadn’t always been kind to her, especially in the beginning, but he had never been as cruel as they had claimed him to be.

“I know it seems like I’ve been in charge, and I guess I have just based on the fact that this is all sort of knew to him, but it wasn’t always like that. When my parents dropped me off at Malfoy manor, I knew virtually nothing. I didn’t know who the Malfoy’s were. I didn’t know that they were Death Eaters. I didn’t even know that magic existed. Draco’s walked me through it all.” She confessed.

Ron was stumped, only then remembering what Draco had told them about her parents and that she had been obliviated consistently for years. Sympathy took a strong hold of him when he imagined how it would be to walk through fog for years only for the Malfoy’s to become all you knew. No one should have to go through that. It was no tiny miracle that she had turned out so sweet; that she had been capable of cutting through the rubbish and bringing Draco into this awakening. 

He fell asleep that night, in the damp cellar across from Ember, having found such a deep respect for her. 

~

When Ember woke up next, it was to the sound of the cellar door clanking open. She blinked blearily and realized that she had a crook in her spine that travelled all the way to her neck from falling asleep slumped against the column. The light that filtered in through the high window was brighter and told her that it was sometime in the morning.

She quickly looked across the room to see that Ron was up and nervously glancing at the door. It swung open a moment later to reveal Wormtail in all his spineless glory. Both Ron and Ember’s faces unconsciously folded into scowls at the sight of him.

“You,” He pointed his thin wand at Ron, “Come with me.”

Ember panicked. Surely Voldemort hadn’t reconsidered killing Ron. She got to her feet before Ron managed to get to his, causing Wormtail’s eyes to shift to her. “Not you princess. Just my old master here.”

Ron shivered in distaste before looking to Ember and tried to give her a reassuring smile. If she could walk at Voldemort’s side time and time again with nothing but her skin to save her, he surely could endure whatever awaited him. His lips quirked up on the side, but it did nothing to hide the fear in his eyes. He walked past her at a slow pace and let Wormtail lead him back to the stairs. Ember stared after them until she heard the clang, signaling that the door had been re-locked. 

It had to have been hours before the cellar door opened again and Ron was thrown back inside. He didn’t necessarily look worse than he had when he left. His hair was ruffled considerably and his cheeks were pale, but there were no outward injuries that Ember could see.

She had expected the door to clang shut behind him, but it didn’t. Wormtail still stood by the door and beckoned her forward with a bored wave. Ember gave a curious look to Ron, as if he had the answer, but he gave nothing away. 

Obediently, she slowly stepped towards the poor excuse of a man. He grinned his yellowed crooked teeth and her slimily, shutting the door behind them.

Ember had never had a conversation with Wormtail or had even known that much about him. Only that he had given his right hand for the rebirth of Voldemort and therefore was redeemed in Voldemort’s eyes for his loyalty. The place where his right hand should be, now had a metallic limb that was silver in the light. Ember wondered if the hand could feel anything.

The short man led her back up through the house all the way to the ball room she had only been in a handful of momentous times. The lights were dimmed even though the window’s that stretched out high around the room let in the light of day. No fire was cast in the fireplace and all were surrounding what looked to be the long granite table from the back porch.

When they got closer, she could see that Narcissa’s eyes were rimmed with red and Lucius had his arm wrapped around her waist, letting her lean against him. Another man was stood next to Narcissa, his grey eyes were glassy, but no tears fell. They were separated from the other Death Eaters who were present and it only took her a moment to realize who the man next to Narcissa was, who he could only be. Rodolphus Lestrange looked towards the table with remorse written all along his face.

If Ember was the kind of girl who screamed when she was frightened, she would have nearly cracked all of those pretty windows, but as it so happens, Ember was the type when scared to freeze entirely and not even dare to breathe.

Laid out on the table surrounded by a handful of Death Eaters was Bellatrix Lestrange post mortem. Her skin had lost what little color she had and was as white as the snow that had fallen around the castle. Her hair barely looked out of place and her hands were clasped against her stomach. She was a lifeless porcelain doll- specifically those dolls that were found in horror stories.

Ember hesitantly continued towards the makeshift funeral pyre as Wormtail’s wand poked in between her shoulder blades.

Voldemort stared at her from his place hovering above Bellatrix’s head. His eyes were cold, his face almost impassive as she stepped closer. It was the first time that he hadn’t greeted her and that was how she knew that she was in deep trouble.

~

Thing were not going well at Shell Cottage. With two horcruxes tainting the air with gloom and two of their friends trapped with the enemy, it was with great restraint that any of them had managed to not fire against each other. 

Even with two horcruxes, and Bellatrix dead, it seemed as if they were back to square one. The sword of Gryffindor, whether it had been the true one or a replica, had not been inside the Lestrange Vault (Harry had a thick suspicion that it had been swiped by the Snatchers at the manor). This meant that they needed to get back into Hogwarts and collect the basilisk fangs if they had any hope of destroying the horcruxes that they had.

The rest of the Order was pleasantly surprised to learn that Bellatrix Lestrange had been killed by Bill in her own vault, but at the same time, the Weasley’s were devastated to learn that Ron had been captured in the scuffle.

Draco was still in a numbed state of shock. Learning that Ember had indeed voluntarily returned back to the manor had caused a sense of whiplash. It was a relief to know that Snape hadn’t just thrown her back to the vipers, but he worried all the same. Actually, he worried even more now that he knew Voldemort had somehow bound Ember to him.   
Whatever that meant, it wasn’t good, and he wasn’t sure they would ever be able to unbound her. But even all of these negatives could not shadow the fact that she had confessed that she loved him. She loved him. He had known, of course he had known, that she loved him; had felt it in her touches, had seen it in her eyes, but hearing the words had been so confirming- so heartwarming- that he clung to the happiness within him as if it were a leaf blowing dangerously in the wind at the tip of a tree. 

Still, in his chaos of Ember, he reassured the Weasley’s, more specifically Molly, that Ember would watch out for Ron as much as she was able.

He had never liked the Weasley’s, doubted even now that he ever really would. There was too much bad blood between the families, but he was glad in a way that Ron was most likely in the manor with Ember and that hopefully they could look after one another. 

“We’re going to have to chance it.” Harry spoke up with a heavy sigh, his face defeated of meaning. He and Hermione were having the hardest time accepting Ron’s predicament. When Draco had suggested that he go back to the manor and do what he could, they had violently denounced the suggestion, but he had seen the struggle in their eyes.   
Whether they didn’t want to lose another helping hand or they still didn’t trust him, was up for debate.

“If what Ember said was right, Snape hasn’t fully left the cause.” Hermione added.

“We can’t put all our hope in the trust of some girl.” Kingsley responded, successfully irking Draco.

“We could do the same plan.” Draco suggested. “Except this time instead of Ember, I go and distract Snape.” It had worked before, why shouldn’t it work again? Hell, I had him distracted well enough the other night.

That silenced the table considerably.

“Is he really going to fall for that twice?” Bill spoke up, a cup of tea clasped in between his hands. “Plus, didn’t Neville tell us that they barely even saw him?”

“I think the whole approach needs to be different this time.” Lupin agreed plainly, glancing at Arthur before turning his eyes on Harry. “This time, we need to take Hogwarts back.”

“What do you mean, take it back?” Hermione questioned knowingly.

Lupin looked around the table, around the camp that had been formed. “This is a nice base, secluded, but it isn’t nearly enough protection if they ever catch wind of where we are. Hogwarts only has three Death Eaters controlling it. It is a fortress where we can hold up and fortify our defenses.”

A deep hum fell over the group as member exchanged glances throughout.

“We would have Dumbledore’s Army and the professors.” Hermione agreed timidly.

“But we’d be putting all the students at risk,” Harry argued. “If we take it back, he’s going to come for it. There won’t be any back and forth. It makes a clear stand that he won’t ignore.”

“He’s coming for you wherever you are Harry. We’re not going to find another fortress to protect us. You already need to get back into Hogwarts and the students are already in danger with the Carrows. The time for decisions is drawing to a close. You need the basilisk fangs, we need better protection.”

“This is different than the Carrows,” Harry responded sternly, his fist clenching on the table. “It’s too dangerous for all of us to waltz in when we know that the war is chasing us. The students are going to get caught in the crossfire.”

“More support for us.” Kingsley spoke, turning all eye onto his wise face. “I want nothing more than for every student at Hogwarts to make it safely to the other side of this war but it is not realistic. There are fifth, sixth, and seventh year wizards that can fight with us and draw up our numbers. That should not be ignored.”

“Nor should it be relied upon!” Harry shouted.

“I can take care of the Carrows.” Draco spoke with a confident tone, to the shock of everyone. “Neville said only the Death Eaters could apparate into the grounds. If Ember could do it, so could I. I eliminate the Carrows before any of you step foot on the grounds and then it’s only Snape. Getting the castle is half the battle, afterwards we can decide what to do with the students before You-Know-Who’s on the door step.”

“How are you going to take on two Death Eaters at once?” Arthur asked suspiciously.

Draco shrugged. “Zabini, he’ll help. Between the two of us and the surprise on our side- it’ll be easy.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “He’s another Slytherin.”

The anger that was constantly sizzling underneath Draco’s skin came to a boil. “You know not all Slytherin’s are Death Eaters or come from Death Eaters. Blaise never cared about politics, or hierarchy. He doesn’t really care about anything at all. It’ll be easy to enlist his support to our side. Trust me.”

And there it was. The two words held over the gorge of years of regret and mistrust and a folded over olive branch. Draco hadn’t meant to say the words, but they slipped out and he couldn’t take them back. They were true and they needed to be said. They would have to learn to trust him and his judgement if he was going to be of any help.

Arthur was the one who broke the uncomfortable silence. “It’s not a bad plan, if what you say is true. Take out the Carrows, evict Snape, destroy the horcruxes, and lure You-Know-Who into our battlefield on our terms. It gives us the home field advantage that we need. We gather our forces and then we strike and be rid of him for good.”

Lupin nodded. “We need to enlist the help of the community that are not members of the Order. Anyone who is willing to put up a stand. The war is inevitable now, but let us steer it into our favor.”

They all watched as Harry laid his forehead against the table, avoiding their eyes.

~

Severus wasn’t sure why he was being summoned to the manor. Usually, these days, he was left to his own devices as long as he secured Hogwarts and he rarely expected to have an audience with Voldemort. In the past months he had only been to the manor when a meeting had been called, and the brief moment he dropped Ember off.

He outwardly cringed as he remembered what he possibly subjugated her to. True, he wasn’t sure what would actually have happened to her, and he had only slightly manipulated her into returning willingly, but it was for the good of the overall cause. Fuck, he sounded like Dumbledore.

He breezed his way through the manor easily enough, having to instruct a poor house-elf to guide him to where the party was. When they reached the back ball room, the elf took off with a squeak and Severus entered cautiously.

The scene was disturbing. The body of Bellatrix Lestrange was lying in the center of the Death Eaters; whether she was unconscious or dead, he wasn’t sure. Ember stood next to the still woman her small hands grasping at the woman’s arm. Her green eyes flicked up to meet his when she caught his movement and he had to swallow his gasp.

Her eyes were sunken in, her skin as pale as a phantom, and she had various bruises and cuts littering her neck, probably more disappearing underneath her dress where he could not see. Her eyes were dead, no life appearing from them, and the hair that fell across her face looked brittle. It had only been three days, what had happened to her?

“Ah, Severus.” Voldemort greeted.

Snape hadn’t even noticed the Dark Lord sitting in a grand throne that had obviously been brought into the room, since there was no other furniture beside the table Bellatrix lay on. He slowly continued his way into the room, taking in the faces of the others. 

“Enigma, continue.” Voldemort demanded calmly and when she didn’t produce her patronus fast enough, Wormtail let his wand form a whip and slashed it across her back. She flinched, hiding her eyes from Snape, and a soft, very subtle, almost blinding blue hue surrounded her fingers and slowly enveloped Bellatrix.

“My Lord,” Snape began cautiously, “What is going on?”

“My sweet Bella let Potter and those fools murder her.” He responded bluntly; bitterly. Snape’s first thought was that the last thing he would call Bellatrix Lestrange was sweet, but it faded quickly as it was becoming increasingly apparent what Voldemort was having Ember do.

His eyes flashed to Lucius, wondering how he could have let this happen, but found that the man would not meet his eye and looked as if he had lost whatever sleep he had still managed to keep up until this point.

“My Lord,” Snape said, utterly bewildered.

Ember suddenly breathed out deeply, sagging against the table, her patronus fading back into her skin softly. Wormtail wasted no time in lassoing the whip around her neck and yanking harshly. Her dead eyes widened as she panickily reached for the magic leather against her windpipe for some relief.

“Surely this isn’t necessary,” Snape demanded, feeling the muscles of his shoulders tense.

If Voldemort had eye brows, he would have raised them in derision. “On the contrary, I find it entirely necessary. What use is a healer, if they do not heal?”

Snape took another cautious step forward, Ember’s eyes pleading at him over Bellatrix’s body. “She is a healer yes, but not a necromancer. You will kill her at this rate.”

Voldemort’s thin lips frowned and he snapped his fingers. Immediately, Wormtail retracted his whip from her neck. Ember fell over the body gasping as she clutched her neck that was already showing angry red marks. Snape could see tears filling her eyes as she caught her breath, but still she didn’t let them fall.

“At this point her value has greatly decreased. If she dies, so be it. It is no longer such a loss. Bella’s on the other hand…” Voldemort said cryptically, and by his tone, Ember caught his drift and immediately reproduced her staggering patronus, capturing Bellatrix once again in a blue glow.

“You would kill her, and Draco for that matter,” Snape saw Lucius flinch from the corner of his eye. “For the possibility that she might resurrect her. This cannot be done!” He implored, shouting.

Voldemort’s head slowly swiveled to the side. “Is it or is it not true that she healed Draco from a deadly injury just last year? I believe you are the one who told me that.”

“Yes, but that was just an injury! He was still alive. This is madness. Even if it does work, which I doubt, you do not know the consequences of such magic!”

Voldemort quickly rose to his full height. “I do not know the consequences of such magic?” He demanded sardonically and, yes, Snape realized how idiotic of a statement that made, but it still was true. Voldemort was neither living nor dead, and his soul clung to mere objects more than the body he now possessed. “I summoned you here for your support, for your guidance.”

“She does not possess the ability!” Snape hissed.

“We do not know the extents of the abilities she does possess, you said it yourself.” Voldemort argued ferociously, before sweeping his cloak out back behind him and sinking back into his throne. His red eyes trained back on a weakening Ember. There were still no signs of life from Bellatrix. “Now, have you seen any sights of the boy amongst the castle?”

Snape bit his tongue as he glared at the Dark Lord who was watching the girl seep her life into the body of another as if it was nothing more than entertainment. “No, my Lord.”   
He drawled stubbornly, his eyes still caught in a glare. “There have been no sightings of the boy.”

Ember, even though much of her concentration was aimed at the lifeless corpse in front of her, opened her ears to get even a lick of useful information. So much so that her concentration completely waned and she collapsed to her knees under the weight of such endurance. Her body felt numb, as if she didn’t have enough blood to pump to all of her extremities. Her thoughts were turning into mush, like her brain wasn’t getting enough oxygen. Her throat clammed up against itself, as if sand had scorched her throat.

“Enigma,” Voldemort tisked. “Continue.”

“I-I can’t.” She breathed. Her eyes closed in exhaustion.

Voldemort’s thin lips pursed in dissatisfaction before they inclined towards Wormtail, “Bring in the boy.”

Wormtail nodded with a slight bow and scurried past Snape.

“What boy?”

“It seems my followers are more foolish than I thought. They mistook one Ronald Weasley as Harry Potter, but our lovely Enigma here rectified the mistake and made known who the boy was. We’ve been interrogating him this morning, and we found out some interesting information.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

The red flashed in his eyes as he snarled at Snape. “Like how they snuck into Hogwarts underneath your crooked nose.”

Snape felt his stomach drop and his palms begin to sweat.

Footsteps shuffled along the tile as Wormtail returned with a reluctant Weasley in his grasp. Ron met Snape’s eyes with a scowl before he was placed astutely next to Voldemort, who gave him nothing more than a glance before shifting to look Ember in the eyes. He carelessly tossed his wand, the elder wand Ron noticed, in his direction. “Now Enigma, we’ve always been able to understand each other. If you do not keep working, I will kill the boy.” He said it conversationally and Ron felt a lump form in his throat.

Ember tiredly looked to the master of all their fates. Her brain wasn’t thinking clearly, but she saw Ron standing there at the mercy of her choice. She thought that if she kept this up, she would surely die and if she died then so would Draco, a thought she could not entertain, but she couldn’t stand by and let Ron die either. Slowly, she struggled back to her feet, taking in deep, steadying, breaths and returned to her post.

Voldemort smirked, but he shouldn’t have been so cocky.

She struggled to conjure her patronus, but when she did, she let her eyes focus on the half-man who started cackling, relaxing just enough back into his throne to allow for her eyes to shift to Ron.

Ron stared back at Ember in utter terror, finally understanding what she had been commissioned to do for the past hours. She looked at him strongly, the green in her eyes burning, and he realized what she was doing for him. He gulped slowly and nonchalantly looked down to the direction of Voldemort’s wand then to the position of Wormtail behind him. 

He gave Ember one last glance as she tried to resurrect Bellatrix Lestrange and reached deep in his mind for the feel of Hermione’s skin; how soft her hands could be when she didn’t have little papercuts littering her fingers from reading too fast. It clicked in an instant and he vanished through the portal of apparation.

The slit of Voldemort’s eyes went wide as he heard the definitive crack from beside him. He had been too distracted on making sure that his Enigma was completing her task that he had underestimated that the boy would try to make the easiest escape possible.

He raged. Tossing the throne behind him to the floor and slamming Wormtail into the wall behind him. He raged enough that it completely broke Ember’s patronus and she tiredly leaned against the table, her bones turning brittle underneath her. But she didn’t let herself rest lest his rage be turned upon her. She tried to ignore his screams; to Lucius, to Snape, to her, and tried to focus on Bellatrix’s stilled heart. Hour upon hour of seeping her healing energy into the woman’s bones had proved nothing but debilitating for Ember, but she knew that if she didn’t produce her characteristic glow and bring about some sort of result, she was as good as dead.

It was then, in her doubts, like a miracle, that all the candles that lit the room extinguished and Ember felt something invisible reach out and touch her patronus, caressing it with a soft pressure before billowing through her like a train. Startled, she stumbled backwards, her patronus retreating with her and painfully clashing back into her skin, and she fell just before the fireplace.

A moment later, Bellatrix Lestrange sat up with a gasp.


	47. Where Things Started Going Right

“So much of my life is outta control; feeling like there’s no way out. I’m buried alive so deep in this hole; feeling like there’s no way out.”  
-Cobi, No Way Out

The remaining three of them, plus Bill and Fleur, Fred and George, a man named John Locksenberg (a friend from Bill’s year at Hogwarts), and Oliver Wood landed outside the path of Hogsmeade near the Shrieking Shack. Instantaneously, the loud jarring cackles of bells sounded from around them.

All of them ducked and quickly fled down the path towards the Hogs Head. “I thought the curfew wasn’t until after six now,” Hermione panted.

“Obviously, the upped the security since the last time.” Draco reasoned as Oliver glared at him from over his shoulder. “What Wood?” Draco seethed, entirely done with people coming in to the stabilized group and doubting him. “I haven’t been a Death Eater for over half a year; it doesn’t mean I can’t still think like one.” He hissed, snapping like a tiny dog pushed over the edge.

Oliver Wood, along with Locksenberg and the twins had reached Shell Cottage early that morning and had immediately given Draco a hard time. Rivalry was always strong when it concerned Oliver, especially since Slytherin was his cold-blooded Quidditch rival and he had a special distaste for the Malfoy’s since Lucius had gifted the Slytherin team with nimbus 2001’s all those years ago. Draco did his best to ignore the Scotsman, but found that his patience was wearing extremely thin.

“Shut up.” Harry demanded as the group skidded against the brick wall one alley over from the Hogs Head. Bill looked around the corner to see a couple of Death Eaters scavenging around, demanding to know who had set off the alarm. 

Bill held his hand up in the signal to wait as he saw the pair dip closer towards Madame Rosmerta’s, then ushered them forward around the corner. The group traveled stealthily enough until they got to the back door of the Hogs Head and slipped inside.

Aberforth was waiting for them. The inn had been closed indefinitely, as had most of the shops of Hogsmeade. The curtains remained perpetually closed, the only light being small candles strewn about. 

“Alright,” Harry announced once they had all piled in, looking over to Draco who was making sure that the hood of his borrowed cloak was hiding his recognizable blonde locks.  
“You sure you’re up for this? One of us could go with you.”

Draco held his hand up placatingly. “I’ve got it. You take out as many of them as you can here. Leave the Carrows to me. The signal is red sparks over the Astronomy tower.”

“We’re sure that you can apparate there?” George inquired.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Well, if I can’t I’ll just end up here or turned to the dust of atoms.”

George’s eyes widened at the self-deprecating humor and looked to Fred from the corner of his eyes. The twins shared an amused telepathic conversation as Fleur spoke to Draco softly. “Be careful.”

He strangely found his lip inch up into a short smile and with one last look at Harry, Draco disaparated.

Coincidentally enough, it could not have been five minutes after Draco’s departure that a rough looking Ron landed in a heap on the inn’s floor. His red hair was matted against his sweaty forehead, his face ashen, eyes unfocused.

“Oh my god, Ron? Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, clambering down to the ground next to him.

Everyone circled around their returned member, no one noticing the sound of the curfew alarm blaring once more. Bill patted the twins on the back as the three of them smiled down at their baby brother, grateful that he was alive. 

“How did you know we’d be here?” Harry asked, his smile fading as he realized that Ron shouldn’t know where they were. 

Hermione was holding Ron’s battered face in her hands, sniffling, but let him go once Oliver and Fred began to help him to his feet.

“Ember,” Ron panted. “She taught me how to apparate to a person.” 

His body felt odd from the new apparation, his heart still pounding from standing so close to Voldemort. He could still hear his heartless jeers in his ears, could still see the cracking porcelain that was Ember.

Harry was stumped at the information, but didn’t take long to recover. “Alright, let’s put a pin in that.” He walked alongside them as Fleur brought out one of the chairs of the bar and Fred helped lower Ron into it. Aberforth brought Ron some water that he gulped down greedily as Harry continued. “How did you manage to escape?”

Ron finished the water with a shake of his head. “It was all Ember. She gave me the opportunity to apparate. Mate,” He said with serious eyes. “What they’re making her do…”

“What are they making her do?” Fleur pushed, grabbing onto Bill’s arm.

Ron broke his gaze from Harry to look over at his sister-in-law, before looking back to Hermione still hovering over his shoulder. “They’re making her resurrect Bellatrix. Or rather that’s what they’re trying to do. It honestly looked like they were just killing her slowly.”

Harry swallowed thickly, brushing his tongue at the corner of his lips. It wouldn’t be good for anyone if Bellatrix was brought back from the dead with a vengeance. Not to mention if Ember died in the process and Draco found out…

“There’s nothing we can do for her now.” Harry said after a moment. “Except end this once and for all.”

They then quickly explained the plan to Ron whilst Bill, Locksenberg, Fred, George, and Fleur snuck back out to the alley and managed to catch and restrain the Death Eaters who were patrolling Hogsmeade. It was short work, with barely any bruises gained. After they restrained them in the corner of the inn, all there was to do was to wait for Draco’s signal.

~

Draco was scurrying through the halls of Hogwarts faster than he ever had before. He had always swaggered down the halls like he owned them; his head held proud, his nose stuck to the roof, and yet it turned out that he had been the most ignorant out of all of those he had criticized. It should have been just close to dinner time, enough time had passed that there shouldn’t be any classes, but the halls were deserted. 

He skid to his feet, trying to figure out where Blaise could possibly be, before inspiration struck and he turned on his heel heading lower and lower towards the dungeons. He past two little girls who clambered away from him as if he was a dementor, which he couldn’t berate them for with the way Hogwarts had been run that year and the fact that he was dressed head to toe in black and currently had a hood covering his face. It was as he was wondering if Voldemort would employ the dementors at some point that he passed Blaise sitting alone in a quirky little nook nowhere near the dungeons.

He grabbed the post next to the nook to help stop his momentum. Blaise, his usual languid self, only slowly looked up from his book to glare at his disrupter. 

Draco was slight taken aback. He hadn’t seen Blaise in a year and the git decided to grow, or attempt to grow, a fucking mustache. He should have greeted him, explained the situation, but the first thing out of his mouth was, “What the fuck is that on your lip?”

Blaise’s eyes crinkled in disbelief, staring up at the figure where he could only see shadows of blue eyes. It didn’t matter that he could see his face, he would recognize that tone of contempt anywhere, and shut the book he was reading with no haste. “Draco fucking Malfoy.”

“Not so loud.” Draco hissed lowly, glancing over his shoulder. “I don’t have a lot of time to explain, but I need your help. Fancy getting rid of the Carrows?”

Blaise could have demanded to know a number of things. Why Draco hadn’t returned at the start of term. What the hell had happened the end of the previous year. Why Crabbe and Goyle had gone on and on about how Draco had been discredited and effectively disowned by the Dark Lord. And why he showed up on a dreary night wanting to remove the Carrows from the castle. He was entitled to question all of these things, but Blaise wasn’t one to ask too many questions. He was the ride or die friend Draco had been counting on him to be.

He shrugged, un-crossed his long legs and stood to his feet. “Sure. You look ridiculous by the way.” He jabbed as he walked around Draco and started making his way back down the castle.

“Well I can’t easily get around with as noticeable hair as mine, mate.” Draco griped, following him. “Where are we going?”

“Carrows are usually executing punishments at this hour in the Deathday dungeon.”

“Bet the ghosts love that.” Draco muttered sarcastically as he hid his face with the edge of his cloak as they passed a string of third years. Blaise snorted.

When they got down to the dungeons and the temperature drastically cooled, Blaise grasped Draco’s shoulder. “Are you working for Potter now?”

Draco bit the inside of his cheek as he regarded the only true friend he had had before Ember. He shrugged nonchalantly with a swaying nod. “They’re not so bad and more importantly, they are the key to removing Vold-“ He sighed, annoyed. “The Dark Lord isn’t going to be good for anyone. We’re ending this and taking back the castle, but first-“

“We need to get rid of the Carrows and Snape.” Blaise finished, catching onto his drift.

“Yeah.”

“Got a plan?”

Draco shook his head. “Past enlisting you? No. But they’re nothing but two malicious morons. We can take them.”

Blaise shrugged, cracking his neck. “Good a night as any.”

The two of them swung open the door to the spacious Deathday dungeon just in time to see Alecto dangling a small fourth year by the nape of their cloak while Amycus was whispering conspiratorially into the ear of a fifth year who looked as if she was going to be sick. More students were cowered around the edges of the room, staring frightened at the scene.

The door swung closed behind the two with a loud thud, effectively drawing the attention of everyone. Both Alecto and Amycus turned at the sound, Amycus comically letting his wand hang at his hip as he glared at Blaise. “Really? Zabini? What could you possibly want?”

Blaise might have yawned, the response was so dull. Draco dramatically thrust his hood off his head, revealing his face to not only the troublesome twins, but to the rest of the students as well.

“Draco?!” Alecto shouted bewilderedly, her ugly face pinching in on itself most unflatteringly. With her focus stolen, the fourth year crashed to the floor and quickly scurried to the side.

Before either of the Carrows could do anything, Draco disarmed Alecto while Blaise sent Amycus flying back into the dusty corner of the dungeon. He recovered quickly enough to send a jinx towards the two of them, but both managed to dodge and Blaise engaged him quickly in a duel. 

The majority of the students scattered from the room, but Draco paid no mind. He ran towards Alecto’s discarded wand, but was just a smidge too late as the horrible witch got her hands on it before him.

Draco’s eyes widened as he hovered over Alecto and narrowly shifted out of the way of the curse sent straight to his face. He was so close that he could see the golden fleck of her brown eyes glaring at him. Swiftly, he leaned too far back and had to shift his weight to his back leg to catch his balance. As he was reconfiguring, Alecto was drawing her wand back enough to send another curse Draco’s way, but she was suddenly paralyzed and fell limp to the ground.

Draco quickly looked around the room only to come face to face with, “Neville!” He breathed, stunned. He easily grasped Neville’s outstretched hand and even managed to give his bicep a friendly slap.

Blaise was just knocking out Amycus when Neville demanded. “What’s going on?”

Draco unclasped the meddlesome cloak, let it fall to the floor, and brushed the hair out of his eyes. “Harry’s in Hogsmeade. We’re taking back the castle. Make sure they’re tied up and send some of your Army to guard Snape’s office.”

“Snape left hours ago.” Neville divulged causing Draco to come to a curious stop.

He looked to Blaise for a moment before looking back to Longbottom. “Well, that just makes this easier then. Let the professors know what’s going on. I’m going to signal Harry.” He said in a rush. He made it all the way back to the door before he crashed to a stop and turned back. “And Neville?” He said, waiting for the boys eyes to meet his.  
“Thank you.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He was off, running back up the castle, his legs throbbing as he approached the astronomy tower where everything had gone wrong. Or maybe, he thought, out of breath, as he approached the formidable tower, just maybe, that is where everything started to go right.

~

Ember was discarded back to the cellar. She treated it like a mercy. Once Bellatrix had discovered what had taken place, she was nearly catatonic with rage, some of which was avidly directed at her. She had said nothing as Lucius had led her back underneath the manor and fell into a puddle on the floor where she was left on her own. 

She didn’t even feel connected to her body as she lay on her stomach with her eyes on the door. Every source of energy she had had been drawn out of her slowly like sucked out venom, leaving whatever was left to push to protect herself. Lucius hadn’t even bothered to lock the door this time. 

Through all the training, the arguments, secrets revealed, and memories restored- it was this that disturbed her the most. She was no longer any better than Voldemort himself. No one should be able to meddle with death and expect it to not demand something in return.

And take something from her, death did.

She had tried to conjure her patronus, even just a little, to help heal the pain in her back, the agony in her frail neck, whatever might have been damaged internally, but that safe glow wouldn’t come. The power simply wasn’t there.

Her body was empty, even the tears she felt she needed to release, were trapped painfully in her neck. It was only when she realized that she might have inadvertently created a horcrux of her own when it came to Bellatrix Lestrange that she screamed. 

True, she had little say in the matter, but when was that fact going to exhaust itself? Maybe listening to Snape and believing that she could make a difference on this side of the cross fire was the stupidest of all her choices. The only difference she was making negatively impacted the resistance and she was probably dying as a result; sacrificing Draco’s life along with hers.

She wailed softly into the concrete, wishing more than ever through the fear and the pain that she had never been born. Whatever use she had was gone; whatever faith she had to keep her going was broken underneath the abuse. She was now nothing more than the squib they had always claimed her to be; but she couldn’t let them know that. If she stopped playing the part, she would be disposed of promptly.

Which, at the moment, didn’t seem so bad. She would gratefully welcome the ultimate escape if it meant Draco could live. 

She heard, from nearly two stories below, the harsh aggravated roar of Voldemort and wondered what could possibly anger him now.

If she had been healthier, and hadn’t been bounded to Voldemort, she might have made a run for it. Instead, the unlocked door mocked her with false possibilities and all the mistakes she had made to cause her to be this- a noodle of a girl laying broken on the cold floor of her in-laws house waiting for when death would claim it’s retribution. 

~

When Draco made it back down to the entrance hall, he could still hear the rejoicing of the castle. The golden trio was at the center of the chaos, members of the Order of the Phoenix on the outskirts, all with humble smiles on their faces. Harry immediately began speaking to the professors and any students willing; explaining the situation and how they needed to go about preparations.

Blaise leaned against the entrance next to Draco. “Strange isn’t it?” He said conversationally as they watched.

Draco hummed, not taking his eyes off the scene. “Carrows?”

“Longbottom and I took the rubbish out to the Forbidden Forest. Did you know that he’s taller than me?”

Draco snorted. “Yeah. He sprouted overnight it seems.”

George was dancing playfully with Lee Jordan, swinging his friend in circle after circle. Seamus was talking adamantly with Oliver, and Luna and Ginny were whispering off to the side. Lupin and Kingsley were in a heavy discussion with McGonagall, who looked as if she had aged ten years.

“Hey,” Blaise said, lowering his voice. He stared at Draco’s profile for a long moment before asking, “Where’s Ember?”

Any of the joy Draco had at the change of circumstances quickly turned to ash in his mouth and that bitterness that always laid on the edges crept back over him like an old friend. He met Blaise’s scorching eyes briefly before turning back to the room that suddenly seemed less joyful to him. “She’s apparently working for us on the other side.”

Blaise’s brows sunk together as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You mean…?”

He shrugged aggravatedly. “Snape somehow convinced or manipulated her.”

No matter how much time passed, he wasn’t sure the sting of her making such a drastic decision without him would ever pass.

The trio were suddenly making their way towards the two. Harry gave both of them a grateful nod, when it suddenly occurred to Draco that Ron was standing next to Hermione and not trapped with the Death Eaters. He immediately straightened, pushing away from the wall, and reached out to grab onto the ginger’s shoulder. “How are you here?” 

Ron opened his mouth, mixed emotions circling his pupils as he took in Draco’s intense stare. He knew exactly what the blonde wanted to hear, what he wished he was able to tell him, and felt a strong sense of guilt at not being able to deliver any comforting news.

“Where’s…” Draco questioned further, but he couldn’t even finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to.

Ron took pity on him and finally shook his head sadly. “It’s not good. She helped me get back here but,” He trailed off.

“But what?” Draco demanded, restraining himself from rattling the information out of Ron.

The ginger winced, glancing at the others next to them for some sense of support, before meeting the expectant look in Draco’s eyes. “They’re trying to get her to revive Bellatrix.”

The hand that was on Ron’s shoulder fell to Draco’s side and suddenly no breath came into his lungs. It was like he had been punched through his chest and the hole filled with poison that quickly spread through his veins like ice.

“Hey,” Hermione intervened softly. “We know she isn’t dead.”

“Yeah?” Draco said bitterly from behind his teeth, sneering at the book worm. “And how do we know that Granger?”

Her mouth opened slightly as her eyes puzzled. She tilted her head in confusion. “Because you’re still alive.” She answered slowly.

He blinked before shaking his head. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah?” Harry agreed, looking at Hermione as if she was speaking Latin.

Hermione looked at all of them, including Blaise, before settling back onto Draco. “Your lives are intertwined. That’s part of a dark marriage. It’s why they’re unheard of, if one dies so does the other.”

“So there are no survivors to explain it.” Harry finished his eyes wide. “That’s why there’s so little research about it.”

Draco slid down the wall as the information brutally sunk in. All those times he had pushed himself close to death just to feel something, he had needlessly drug Ember’s fate with his. He was furious that no one had ever explained to him that side effect. All at once, the balance of their connection to Voldemort made sense. He hadn’t killed him as he had once promised because he had needed Ember. 

Hermione crouched down in front of him. “This means she’s alive, and if she’s alive we can figure out how to get her back with us. But first we need to destroy the horcruxes and we need your help to fortify the castle. Can you do that?”

Her voice was soft, as if she was speaking to a wounded animal and not an eighteen year old, married, man. He wanted to say something ugly to her, as the pain in his heart doubled, just to get her out of his face if nothing else, but that part of him that had come so far and was reviling in the acceptance just minutes before, only nodded at her and watched as the trio dashed off to the Chamber of Secrets.

~

It happened abruptly, with no preamble.

One moment she was laid out on the cement, her soul seeping out across the floor, and the next she was urged profusely towards the door, up the stairs, and all the way into the parlor. Which was strange in and of itself, because Voldemort never went in there. Her being summoned without a known command only proved that the bond Voldemort had bestowed upon her was intact. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the bond she wasn’t sure that she would have been able to stand up.

Voldemort was in the middle of the room, like the main fixture he was. The revived Bellatrix was standing next to him glaring something vicious at Ember. Which was very ironic since Ember was the one to give her back her life, no matter how it was concocted. Lucius and Narcissa, who was visibly brighter at her sisters reappearance, were off to the side next to Wormtail.

Bellatrix held out her arm resentfully, a clear invitation for Ember to grasp on, but she was not so easily pliable. “What is going on?”

“It seems that in Severus’s absence, the Order of the Phoenix has retaken Hogwarts Castle.” Voldemort drawled, his eyes clearly trained on her face to see if she would give any emotional indication to the news. She managed to keep her expression bleak, but whether it was her harnessing her ecstatic feelings or her exhaustion hindering her facial expressions, she wasn’t sure.

That was apparently all she needed to hear before she reached out and looped her arm through Bellatrix’s. It’s honestly probably for the best that she was apparating with Bellatrix, she probably wouldn’t be able to on her own. She saw from the corner of her eye that Narcissa’s hand tightened perceptibly on Lucius forearm which must have prompted Lucius to say, “Is she well enough to travel My Lord?” He paused for a moment before adding, “We don’t need any hinderances.”

Clever Lucius, Ember thought sourly.

“I applaud your concern, but we need everyone on this little expedition.” Voldemort responded before twisting on the spot, causing a domino effect to occur and the rest of them to disparate behind him.

They all landed on the high cliff behind the castle, just on the edge of the forbidden forest and Ember was not surprised to realize that they were the last to arrive. Hundreds upon hundreds of witches and wizards all dressed in black stood waiting to be commanded. It was a discouraging sight, for she was sure that the castle contained but a fraction in numbers, but they had worked quickly, a dome of enchantments already encircled the grounds. 

Voldemort, though his leverage were lacking, did not have to work for the malicious grin placed upon his lips; staring at Hogwarts as if it was the great crown jewel. With barely more than a whisper, he commanded; “Begin.”

Hundreds of spells begin to rain across the dome, narrowly beginning to break down its enforcements.

~

In the end it was quick. Compared to how long they had held onto Slytherin’s locket, the destruction of the diadem and the cup of Helga Hufflepuff exactly where six years earlier Harry had destroyed the diary of Tom Riddle, had been swift.

After Hermione had put an end to the cup, her and Ron had collided into one another, having no care that Harry was but a few feet away silently gagging. He made no comment though, considering he and Ginny were quite the same in their affections and Ginny was Ron’s little sister, which might always be a sore subject. Honestly, he was happy for his best friends. God knows it had taken them long enough.

The trio quickly drifted back up the castle and onto the courtyard to see that the defensive spells were not holding as well as they had hoped. The barrier had been ripped away and any, and every, creature was now flooding the castle. Wizards were now into close range duels. Draco, having seen that they had resurfaced from the Chamber, quickly rejoined them, leaving Blaise beside Cho Chang to deal with a rebellious snatcher.

“Is it done then?” He questioned, wiping the back of his wrist along his forehead to collect the drooping sweat and paying no mind to the tight grasp Ron had on Hermione’s hand.

Harry let out a deep sigh. “Yeah.”

“What now?”

“Now would have been the perfect time for Ember to locate him.” Ron added only slightly condescendingly, when in all actuality, he now had quite the soft spot for the small girl who had saved his life more times than he could count.

Hermione leaned back slightly so she could get a better look at him. “Well, can’t you do it now?”

“What?” Draco asked completely unaware.

Ron shifted on his feet with a sigh. “She taught me how to apparate to a person.” He confessed to Draco before regarding Hermione. “And I don’t think it works like that. She said it took time to just be able to locate a person instead of just apparating to them.” He looked to Draco, who was gazing at him sourly. “Right?”

Draco scowled. “Well she managed to not teach me a thing about it, so I don’t rightly know.”

Ron quickly backed off at the hostility in his tone. “Anyway, Ember couldn’t find him when apparating until she touched his bones at the graveyard.”

“It doesn’t matter, I can find him.” Harry digressed the situation. He consciously backed himself into a corner and prepared to delve into the mind of Voldemort once again.

Like always, it came to him disturbingly quickly, but where it had been in flashes before, he now saw a string of coherent film. Voldemort was pacing, his naked feet caressing the ground, his long cloak billowing about him as smoke. He saw a rough version of Ember teetering beside him, her eyes the only thing moving as she cautiously watched him pace back and forth. 

“It’s the wand, milord.” Bellatrix ascertained. “It does not agree with you.”

“It’s the Elder wand!” He hissed ignoring her judgement, before pausing in his pacing. Harry could tell that he felt scared, terrified even. “There is only one left.” He pronounced each syllable carefully so that Bellatrix would understand his meaning. His eyes flickered to Ember. “Come Enigma, we must pay a visit.”

He disaparated on the spot, and Harry thought that would be the end of it, before the flashes began again to show Voldemort standing in the Shrieking Shack, Ember at his side and Lucius Malfoy before him. “Bring me Severus.”

Harry gasped as he was abruptly closed out of his connection. He looked to his friends around him and blinked. “The Shrieking Shack. He’s gone to confront Snape about something. He’s terrified, I think he can feel the parts of him that are dying. He said there’s only one left.”

They were all silent as the battle raged around them; all pondering this new information. They had been relatively sure that the line of horcruxes had ended with the cup and the diadem, that this final hour reveal of another one was most despairing. 

That is, until Draco spoke. “It’s the snake.” He said with such conviction that dared any of them to question his epiphany.

The three of their eyes lit up with the same assurance as his blue orbs. 

“It has to be. He keeps Nagini at his side at all times.” Draco explained confidently. “Was the snake with him?”

Harry had to think back to what he had just witnessed, trying to decipher if he had seen the snake or not. He shook his head. “I’m not sure. But,” He started with a lingering meaningful look to Draco. “I know who is.”


	48. The Season of Sacrifice

“I’ve been putting sorrow on the furthest place on my shelf.”  
-Aurora, Runaway

There were lots of things that surprised Ember. When cold rain had fallen from the sky she was mesmerized. When Draco had decided to teach her about Hogwarts when he had no inclination to. When the golden trio against all odds had decided to trust them. But it came as no surprise to find Lucius waiting for them in the musty room of the Shrieking Shack. She was slightly confused as to how exactly the man knew to meet the Dark Lord there, but she chalked it up to one of those strange communications from the dark mark that she had never quite understood. That, and the fact that she simply no longer cared.

Her spirits were at an all-time low; possibly hovering around her aura but not to be grasped. She felt as if she was drifting around events being entirely un-useful yet punishable all the same. She wondered if it would ever end, this misery.

She was kept besides Nagini, who was now curiously floating in a transfixing protectively enchanted orb. She glanced over at the snake to realize that it was already glancing at her as if she would be its next meal, which she might be. It wouldn’t be beneath Voldemort to let one pet eat the other.

Lucius, the fallen fool, had aimed his pleading eyes at her. “Ember, please…have you seen Draco?”

She stared at him incredulously. She knew better than to answer that and, more importantly, he should know that she hadn’t seen her husband in days now, though it seemed an eternity. She would have left it at that but, no, it was strange the way Lucius was looking over at them, and it was only then that she could see that in his own way he had showed his own hand. If he got Draco, he would disappear from this battle all together. She couldn’t decide if that would show bravery or cowardice. Finally putting your son above your cause, only to run away from confrontation was no bravery at all.

Voldemort actually rolled his eyes at the plea. “We know that your son is not dead Lucius. We have grand assurance of that.” He waved a hand at Ember. “If he is injured it’s no fault but his own.”

“My Lord,” Lucius said stuttering only a little, his hands clasped awkwardly. “Forgive me, but are you not afraid that Potter could die by another’s hand? Why not call off this attack and solely search for the boy?”

“Don’t pretend that I do not know your suggestion is purely to discover what has become of Draco. As I’ve told you before, the boy will seek me out by the end of the night.” Voldemort paused, trailing his lithe fingers over the Elder wand. “Go and fetch Snape. It seems that I require his assistance.”

Lucius gulped and nodded. He cast one more glance at his exhausted daughter in-law and disaparated.

“Lovely setting isn’t it Enigma?” Voldemort stated casually walking about the room.

Ember glanced around the room. It looked as if one deep sigh would collapse the whole thing on top of them. Broken, dust colleting, furniture was scattered about the room they occupied. The floorboards were half missing and the wall that connected them to the hallway had several large holes in it; large enough that Ember could see the into the hallway. “I suppose.” She answered as steadily as she could manage.

“Did Blaine ever allow you to have pets?” 

Ember decided that small-talk Voldemort was much more disconcerting than when Voldemort was silent.

“No, My Lord.” Not that I would remember if he had, she thought mildly. She had to remind herself that somehow Voldemort was not made aware of the brutal treatment her father had given her mind.

He carefully looked into the floating orb that caged Nagini. “There was a time where she was my only friend.”

She found it hard to believe that he ever had another friend except for Nagini- and Bellatrix. “All the more reason to protect her sir.” She responded evenly. She couldn’t chance inviting his rage against her in this state, but she also struggled to find the will to care.

His snake-like eyes glided from Nagini to her. “You know a few things of protecting yourself. I suppose that I should reward you for bringing my Bella back to me.”

Her stilled, graceful, posture went rigid. She could not imagine anything he would reward her with as being something that she would want.

From inside one of this robes, he drew out a small vial with an orange hue and offered it to her. “This is an invigoration drought. It will restore what energy you lost to Bella.”

Despite her strong resolve, her brows wrinkled in curiosity. That actually was a worthy reward. She took the vial from his outstretched hand, shivering involuntarily when her fingers brushed against his. She stared into the vial, at its small glow, before settling her gaze back on Voldemort, who was looking at her, intrigued. 

It was worth debating whether this was what he claimed it to be. It could very easily be poison and by the way he was looking at her, he knew that she was indecisive. She considered heavily on whether to slip the vial to her lips or smash it to the floor and damn the consequences, but then she realized something even more valuable. Voldemort was many thing, but he was not a liar.

Tossing the liquid back, she screwed her face tight as the bitter liquid trailed down her throat. She glanced back to Voldemort to see that he was giving her an impressed look.   
The effects took hold immediately. She no longer felt like a wraith and felt strength seep back into her bones. Still, even with the help, she was nowhere close to her full strength.

“I am proud you know,” He stated as the after taste still plagued her taste buds. “You’ve managed to achieve far greater abilities that originally estimated. You are undoubtedly the worthiest Malfoy to date.”

“I aim to please,” Was the only response she could give without threatening to claw his eyes out.

~

Running through the grounds of Hogwarts would always be a staple when it came to golden trio adventures, this time was no exception. The castle burning around them proved more difficult than anticipated. At every turn there was another obstacle; a giant here, a spider there. Hermione managed to incapacitate Fenrir Greyback as he began to drink from a paralyzed Lavender Brown.

The four of them had to jump from the side of the castle and half way rolled down the slopes towards the Whomping Willow. “Explain to me again why we’re going to the Whomping Willow to get to the Shrieking Shack? Wouldn’t it be easier to apparate to Hogsmeade and trek up through there?” Draco asked between deep breaths, nearly tripping over a poorly misplaced rock.

“Listen to him, wanting to trek up to the Shrieking Shack.” Ron commented good-naturedly. Draco rolled his eyes, though no one saw.

“There’s a secret tunnel that connects the Willow to the Shack. Harry discovered it our third year.” Hermione explained before letting out a slight scream as a large boom sounded from somewhere behind them. They could only hope that it was one of Seamus’s inventions and not the opposition.

Draco was appalled to learn that he had known next to nothing about what the golden trio had gotten up to during their time at Hogwarts. In the past, to the rest of the students who weren’t gallivanting adventurers, it seemed as if the rumors each year got more to the point and yet no one had questioned all the little idiosyncrasies that made up such adventures. They all just cast their judgements and went on their way, he perhaps worse of all. When all this was over, his curiosity wanted an in depth recap of all their adventures through the years.

At the bottom of the sloped heel, just before the Willow, whose limbs were already agitated, they all paused.

“How I hate this bloody tree.” Ron murmured seemingly to himself.

Hermione quickly thrust her wand out and commanded, “Immobulis!” 

The lively tree stopped all movement, allowing them to dive into the little nook at the bottom of the trunk.

Just inside the entrance was an invisible barrier that was really rather a simple spell that Hermione had worked out in less than a minute. From there it was just a matter of hunching over and walking as fast as they could on their toes, avoiding misleading turns and overgrown stumps. 

“Alright, everyone silent. If you get a clear shot at the snake, take it.” Harry imparted wisely despite that being the whole purpose of this side-quest. Well not entirely; Draco selfishly wanted to see Ember.

Harry carefully lifted the false floorboards over his head with the help from Hermione and silently they slid it to the side of the hallway. One by one they stealthily lifted themselves out of the tunnel and onto the continuously creaking floorboards. This would have been a problem, but the Shrieking Shack was not given its name on a whim. It continuously hummed with life after the wreckage Remus Lupin had wracked upon it. Therefore with hope, their slight disturbance to the balance of the structure would go unnoticed. 

“My Lord,” They heard Snape’s voice, much shakier than usual, and could just see the back of Voldemort’s bald head from one of the holes torn through the wall barring room. “Let me find him. Let me bring you Potter.”

They crawled, as covertly as possible to the various holes, carefully to try and keep their presence a mystery. When they made it to their destination, all breathed a silent sigh of relief and settled against the wall, careful to remain concealed, with their ears turned on.

Voldemort sucked on his teeth, though none of them could see it. His back was gratefully towards those lovely little holes. Harry could only catch a glimpse of Snape’s face from this angle, but the snake was hovering on Voldemort’s far side- far out of reach for any of them to inconspicuously attack it. 

Ember was standing on his other side, her profile the only thing the group could see as her eyes bounced from one man to the other. “Next you’ll be asking Enigma to miraculously help you.” Voldemort droned on unimpressed. “Need I say it again, the boy is no one’s concern but my own. No; I have another problem Severus.”

Draco tried to focus on what was being said but he could only stare at Ember. She was a small bird clinging to a tree in the midst of a hurricane. Her face was worn down to the bone and she had noticeably lost weight in the short amount of time they had been parted. As much as he was angry with her, he loved her and seeing her so distressed concerned him greatly. He wanted to jump through the hole and wrap her in his arms and take them away from this, but that would do nothing but kill them, and so he stayed a wall away.

“My Lord?” Snape questioned, an inch of true fear trickling into his voice.

Voldemort lifted his wand before Snape, inspecting it curiously. “It does not work.”

Snape’s dark eyes widened. “What do you mean? You’ve done exceptional magic this evening.”

“No. My magic is always exceptional, this wand should make it magnificent. There is no difference between this wand and the wand Ollivander gave to me.” He explained, his attention seemingly fixated on the Elder wand in question.

Snape took a slight, almost microscopic, step back and Draco saw Ember’s eyes zeroed in on it, her own body going rigid. The air had grown colder, and thinner somehow, tinged with fear.

“I’ve thought about it a lot tonight, but I finally understand why it is kept guarded from me.”

“Please I beg you, let me seek out the boy.”

“No.” His voice cut through the plea. “You sound like Lucius. The boy will come to me. I need not waste any further energy on that. The problem that remains is of what will occur when the boy does find me.” He paused for a moment, looking over the shriveling Snape. “You have been very valuable to me Severus, but please tell me, why has this wand not understood me? I took this from the grave of Albus Dumbledore. I took the wand from its previous master and yet it still will not yield to me. How can that be?”

Snape swallowed thickly, understanding shining in his eyes. “I’m not sure that I know what you are implying.”

Voldemort’s eyes lifted. “Oh, but don’t you Severus?”

Harry was quick to understand though, and without shifting his eyes from the scene before him, he reached his arm out and squeezed Draco’s arm. Because he had been there, and he had seen that it was Draco who disarmed Dumbledore and not Snape.

The hand of Harry Potter griping him so tightly it hurt and the knowledge that only he, Harry, and Snape knew rushed into Draco’s blood stream and paralyzed him to the floor. The only thing that had brought him back to the present and away from the information that he was the true beholder of the bloody Elder wand, was Ember.

She had very slightly torn her eyes from the scene and angled her head towards the party of intruders as if the hairs on the back of her neck had alerted her that she was being watched. Those green eyes widened when she recognized the scarred boy who wore round glasses before becoming completely dumbstruck when they met those blue eyes of Draco’s that she had been dreaming about.

“I have only ever served you.” Snape pleaded, letting almost all false pretenses melt away. 

Ember tore her eyes from Draco at his voice; the dyer tone placing her on edge more than ever. The sound of his fear, something she had never heard before, created a deeper fear of her own. Especially mingled with the anxiety she felt with the knowledge that the boy who could end everything was only a few feet away with her husband.

“The Elder wand does not adhere to me because I am not its true master. The wand belongs to the one who killed Albus Dumbledore. I must kill you, though I regret it, to gain the power that eludes me.”

Ember took step forward, seeing the future before it happened. “No, you can’t-” She began to argue, her voice borderline hysterical.

“Silence Enigma. This does not concern you.” Voldemort spoke without heat, his eyes still trained on the ex-potions master who had now begun to plead on his own. 

But his pleas did not bring mercy. Voldemort lifted his wand and Ember lifted her arm to bring his down before thinking twice as tears began to strike down her pale cheeks.   
“Please!” She begged to deaf ears. Without Snape she was left along on the side of the Death Eaters; she would only be left with death and bleakness, chained to a monster hellbent on never setting her free without her clever mentors advice.

It mattered not. His wand slashed through the air, but nothing happened to Severus, who for the briefest of moments thought he had been spared, before Nagini’s cage began to shimmer forward, encasing Snape in its barrier. The group watched on in horror as Voldemort whispered his demand in parseltongue and the snake lunged forward, piercing Snape’s neck before backing off entirely.

Snape screamed, his legs giving out from underneath him. He fell like a stone backwards into the groaning wall next to the tall open window. 

“Come Enigma,” Was Voldemort’s only response before turning Nagini’s cage towards him and disapparating.

She should have followed immediately, but she couldn’t as Snape’s dark brown eyes looked up to her, showing more emotion than she had ever seen. She dropped to her knees, tears falling freely, as she crawled over to his body, reaching out to place her hand against the pulsing wound on his neck.

His hand intercepted hers. “Don’t,” He rasped, squeezing her fingers in his, “You must go.”

But still she stayed. She looked behind her and noticed that Harry Potter was now standing in the doorway, his eyes glued onto the fallen potions master. His green eyes met hers before taking the quick steps to the other side of the false Headmaster. Snape allowed him to stopper the wound, just as wispy liquid started seeping from his eyes.

Snape’s eyes remained on Ember, begging her. “Go, Ember.”

She knew he was right. She could not hope to heal him in her condition, she wasn’t even sure if she still retained any power. She could feel the slight pull of Voldemort already and the last thing she wanted was for the monster to return here to the scene of his crime to find what held her to her spot.

She let out a small sob as she got to her feet. Snape’s eyes flew to Harry’s and he began to demand that Harry take the liquid pouring from him. A strong hand grasped her arm and she almost sagged against the familiarity. Wanting nothing more than to speak to him for hours; to still be alone together and conspire, but she didn’t have the time to give them. She only turned her sad eyes to meet Draco’s and reached for his hand. She squeezed it tightly three times before letting him go.

His eyes stayed on her until she disappeared back to her cage.

~

She settled on the ground with warm tears still in her eyes. The scene would haunt her more than any other for years to come. Her mentor dying in front of her and her, a healer that he had taught, who had just brought someone back from the dead a day earlier, had not been able to do anything for him. She had to sit and watch as his blood seeped into the shack, his eyes begging her to leave.

Voldemort regarded her curiously, but if he had wondered what had delayed her reappearance, he had kept it to himself. It only took her a moment to realize where they were and hear that her name was being shouted.

They stood deep in the Forbidden Forest. Hagrid was tied with thick ropes, screaming Ember’s name in disbelief as she miraculously appeared beside Voldemort along with all the other Death Eaters, and he wrongly assumed that she, too, was one of them.

Without permission, she walked to a fallen tree and sat against it, keeping her eyes to herself.

Voldemort ignored her entirely and placed his wand to his throat, speaking softly into the wind. “You have all fought valiantly tonight, but each drop of magical blood that is spilt is a waste. My forces are to draw back. Collect and mourn your dead. Now, I speak only to Harry Potter. You have cowardly let those around you die in your stead. I will wait in the Forbidden Forest for one hour. If you do not surrender, I shall recommence the battle and rest assured, I will cut down anyone in my path until I have snuffed you out. One Hour.”

Ember closed her eyes, wondering how this was ever going to end well for them if Harry was to sacrifice himself. The words Snape had spoken to her only days before weighed heavily on her conscious- shocking her back into her system. Harry was going to have to die before all of this was over. Now she was the only person alive who knew. That is unless Harry did take the memories that had drained out of Snape’s dying eyes and knew what to do with them. 

Someone sat down next to Ember, close enough to make her uncomfortable, until she realized who it was that would be so bold. Narcissa Malfoy sat next to her in silence, barely meeting her eye. She was sitting passively, silently supportive, seeming as far away mentally as Ember herself was.

Draco. He looked at her so unmoved as if all that had happened had changed his opinion of her. It hurt to think that that might be true, that she might have ruined everything for all the pain she had suffered. It wasn’t until Hagrid’s cries faded into the background and Bellatrix’s cackling, that pierced Ember deep in her chest like nails skinning her from the inside out, lowered that she felt the long familiar heat against her breast.

She glanced at Narcissa, who was staring over at Lucius standing resolutely by Yaxley. She then looked around to make sure that no one was paying her any attention before removing the coin and deciphering the quick message. It read simply; let him.

~

Draco sat exhausted on one of the benches pushed to the side of the Great Hall. He was weary and felt as defeated as Ember had looked there in the Shack. Blaise sat beside him, and for not engaging him in conversation, Draco was thankful. He tried not to think of anything as he sat on the sidelines of so much death.

Bodies were laid out along the cold floor. There wasn’t a face so far that he wasn’t familiar with, and he wondered guiltily if he had done just one thing differently last year if he could have spared them. His soul felt so small and pulled thin, that a particularly harsh word might spear through it and he would no longer be.

The sounds of the Weasley’s were the worst. One of the twins, Draco had never been able to tell the apart, was dead. Just two years older than him, and his dead body was collecting the tears of eight family members and countless friends. If it had been him, he wondered if there would even be one mourner. It is always unfair to weigh one life against another, but Draco knew that Fred Weasley’s blood had been made of gold and his own might not have even been made of silver any longer.

Harry had disappeared to the dead Headmasters office and had yet to return. The professors were trying to communicate with the students who had joined in on the fighting, helping where ever they could amongst the tired and weary soldiers. Draco couldn’t find it in him to help. Those around him no longer stared at him as if wondering why he was amongst them, but it was a small victory that deserved no celebration.

Even if they survived this war, Ember was still bound to Voldemort and it was unclear if her life, and conveniently his life, was tied to the lifeline of Voldemort now.

Luna, who had been sitting with Neville, brought the lanky lad along with her and sat herself down on Draco’s other side. She was silent, but patted Draco’s knee in silent recognition. It occurred to him then that she was thinking about Ember too. It was nice to know that he wasn’t the only one who cared for the girl who was trying to do much more than should have ever been asked of her.

Moments later, time moved irrelatively even though they were against a racing clock, Harry appeared back in the Hall. He spotted their numb crew and walked towards them first. His eyes stayed on the Weasley clan, plus Hermione. She noticed him first and pulled herself away from a still distraught Ron to make her way to them. Ron noticed her leave and walked only a few paced behind her.

Harry retreated out of the Hall, knowing that his two best friends would follow him. He did not anticipate that Draco would slide his way out with them.

When they were far enough away from the Great Hall, Draco began, “We need to figure out this wand situation.” His eyes pointedly looked to Harry, who he only now realized looked just as bad as Ember had.

“There’s nothing to figure out.” Harry responded.

“What? Why?”

Harry couldn’t meet any of their eyes.

“Harry, what did you find out in the pensieve?” Hermione asked slowly.

“There’s a reason I can enter his mind. A reason I can speak parseltongue. A reason why we are so connected.” He took in an even breath and looked to Hermione. “I think I’ve known for a while and I think you have too.”

Draco and Ron watched as Hermione, with tears pouring down her cheeks, through her arms around Harry. “I’ll go with you.” She said around a sob.

“What is going on?” Draco demanded, noticing that Ron seemed as clueless as him.

Harry and Hermione broke apart and Hermione took it upon herself to answer. “Harry is a horcrux.”

“What?” Draco breathed out. The boy meant to save them, the boy meant to fix everything when they were this close to the finish line, had to die?

“That’s why the wand needs to remain yours,” Harry elaborated. “After me, there’s only the snake and then it’s just him. You can take him out before he realizes his mistake with Snape.”

Draco, suddenly thrust with this responsibility, tried desperately to thrust it back. “No. No, I can’t. It’s not meant to be me. It’s meant to be you. I know it is.” He knew it like it was written into his soul. All the trials and tribulations that Harry had dealt with for seven years and suddenly it was Draco’s task to kill Voldemort? No. It was not meant to be, Draco knew it wasn’t. 

But there was no time to argue over the inevitable.

Harry let go of Hermione and grasped Draco’s shoulder. “It has to be you. He doesn’t know what had become of you. Ember has told him nothing. And perhaps if you are the one to kill him, it will break the connection he has with Ember. Everyone’s happy.”

“Yeah, except you mate.” Ron said heartbrokenly.

Harry gazed to his very best friend. “It’s alright. I think I always knew this was how it was going to end. Maybe this was what was supposed to happen that night in the graveyard and I’ve been living on borrowed time.” He gave a true smile. “I made the most of it.”

The best friends, that were practically brothers, stared at each other for a very long time before they collided into each other’s embrace, thumping each other’s back heartily.

Harry Potter left them with the tasks he could not finish and a small smile playing at reassurance, before making his way down to the Forbidden Forest.

~

Let who do what?

The message made little to no sense. Ember scanned the wizards around her inconspicuously. She sneakily tucked the coin back next to her heart. If things ever got back to normal, she would pointedly explain that while this form of communication might have worked with the imperio’d Madame Rosmerta, it was pretty shit in long term communication.

All of them waited. None of them mourning Severus Snape but her. To be fair, she didn’t think anyone was made aware of Snape’s death but her and the floating snake who had carried out the deed, but she was sure that none of them would have felt remorse if they had been in on the secret. Death Eaters did not mourn the dead, they were on friendly terms with death and so took on the name in their mask.

Bellatrix, after being dismissed from Voldemort’s side quite verbally for being too annoying, had dropped onto the other side of Ember. What a picture the three of them made; the women who had become entangled with the Malfoy’s one way or another, all waiting for an unfortunate boy to come and surrender. One might have thought that Bellatrix might have softened towards Ember once knowing that it was by the girl’s power that she remained breathing, but it was not so. If anything, she was trying to get underneath the girls skin more now than ever before.

It wasn’t until the hour was almost up that they heard twigs snapping from the south. All stood at attention, as the boy who lived- the one they had been seeking for the past year- easily relinquished himself into their hands. Voldemort grinned snidely, which caused the others to begin to laugh in a cheering way.

Ember did not let her eyes stray from Harry, even though he would not look at her lest it give her away that she was in fact acquaintances with him. The girl was confused though, Harry was alone, just as Voldemort had instructed, but he was entirely defenseless. He did not even carry his wand. 

Whatever words that were coming out of Voldemort’s mouth, Ember did not hear them. It clicked in a quick seamless moment- the message suddenly clear. Let Harry sacrifice himself. She had known, Snape had told her that Harry would have to die, but it seemed unreal as the boy closed his eyes to accept his fate.

It happened rather quickly, as she stared at the boy that was supposed to guarantee her future lay his arms down at the devil’s feet. Ember numbly heard the loud command of Avada Kedavra, before the whole forest was encircled in bright green.


	49. The Final Stand

“I’m only human, I make mistakes. I’m only human, that’s all it takes, to put the blame on me. Don’t put the blame on me.”  
-Rag’n’Bone Man, Human

For how much Voldemort claimed his total superiority and that he himself did not in truth need protecting, killing Harry Potter had knocked him off his feet and thrown him backward. In fact, he had even gone unconscious for a moment before Bellatrix screamed for Ember.

Ember scurried over, falling down next to the vile creature who she secretly hoped had miraculous killed himself with the exertion. She hadn’t brought herself to look over on the other side of the field to see if the Chosen One, the only savior they had, was dead. Before she could get her hands on Voldemort, he was already throwing off Bellatrix’s hands; pushing her to the ground in the process. That seemed to make all the Death Eaters who had begun to crowd around their master back away in one swoop. Voldemort ignored the healer next to him entirely. 

He got back up onto his feet feeling terribly off balanced- and he couldn’t figure out why. He looked across the way to where the lump of the boy still lay face down against the grass. “Is the boy dead?” He asked, of no one in particular.

Ember rose slowly back to her height, only now noticing that the cage Nagini was kept in was hovering right behind her shoulder.

“You,” Voldemort commanded, pointing his wand at Narcissa Malfoy who had barely moved from her spot standing next to the fallen tree. “Examine him.”

Narcissa bowed her head and paced towards Harry. The boy she had heard much about over the years from her son and in recent years the boy her entire life vibrated around, laid face down in the wet grass, still. She had never personally met him, other than that brief introduction at the manor, but she had always felt for the boy. To be orphaned so young that you couldn’t even remember your parents and even worse; to be thrust into the muggle world because of it- sometimes it haunted her at night. And more than once in the past few years she had wondered if Draco would soon share part of his origin story.

She kneeled down at his body, her eyes scanning carefully for any sign of life. Narcissa lowered her head towards his, her hand creeping beneath his shirt to feel for any sign of life. When she felt the steady thumping underneath her hand she realized that she was on a precipice of her own. Her nightmare of a year, much like Draco’s and Ember’s, could be over and not become her future if she put her hope into this boy before her. But any future in which her son was not alive and well, was not one she wanted to be a part of.

It is now that it is important to note that Narcissa Malfoy was on the nonbeliever side when it came to dark marriages. She did not believe that Ember and Draco’s souls were so tightly intertwined so that if one died, so would the other. The only pair of wizards married under a dark marriage that she had known of were Gertrude and Leopold. And when Gertrude had died in the midst of a duel gone wrong, it was not her death that had killed Leopold. It had been days later that he had died of nothing more than a broken heart. Therefore, in her opinion, her baby boy could be dead out there amongst the rest of the causalities. Voldemort could have even killed him himself and kept the truth from them all.

Her lips brushed the boy’s ears and in a whisper so quiet she wasn’t even sure if it had left her lips, “Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?”

The next time Harry exhaled, the affirmation, yes, breathed out with him.

Narcissa rose to her feet, turning gracefully back to the Dark Lord. Keeping her face masked, she announced, “He is dead!”

~

It was strange, the light of a new day breaking over the horizon as if nothing had happened the night before. No one had slept the night, except for the dead, and that could not much be helped. The hour had long been over and all had gathered near the entrance, unsure of what would occur. Not many had even known that Harry Potter had escaped to the Forbidden Forest. Those who did, only assumed so because he was not with Hermione and Ron.

The last two thirds of the golden trio sat together on the steps of the castle mourning silently their friend who had given so much more than he had ever been given. In hushed whispers they tried to come up with a plan of attack towards Nagini, but it was hard to push the pain in their hearts out of their minds.

Both their eyes occasionally glanced to Draco Malfoy, his lean body pacing back and forth just down the hallway. His wand twirled in his hands like a famed baton twirler. His other hand kept brushing through his hair in rough strokes. Occasionally he would pause in his assaulting strides, his eyes growing unfocused, before he continued his path more vigorously.

It hadn’t been fair that the final demise of Lord Voldemort had been thrust upon him instead of the golden boy, but it also hadn’t been fair that Severus Snape had had to die in a grand miscommunication. To think that one act, in the midst of several defining ones that had occurred more than a year ago, could affect the outcome of such a tremendous undertaking was bewildering.

Draco’s mind was racing in circles at all the new information and all the possible outcomes, but they were mostly revolved around the small girl he was insanely worried about.   
He’d do anything for that girl, but he couldn’t figure out how to go about getting her out of the situation she placed herself in. Surely by now she understood that Harry Potter would not save them and in the end they would have to save themselves. It wasn’t out of selfishness, it was merely out of survival that he thought about trading the wand for her freedom.

Each time the thought came to him, each more appealing than the last, one strong objection always reared. Ember would never forgive him if he forsake all they had overcome and everyone they had connected with just to save her, however noble the cause might be. No, he should not be thinking of making deals of any sort with the devil.

He would need to see the end of this through, anything less would be wasting the last request given by Harry. His once greatest adversary had turned into the person he respected above all else. If he could willingly give his life for the rest of theirs, certainly Draco could at least try his best to kill the son of a bitch who wreaked havoc on all their lives.

Footsteps and a yelp from down the hall brought him back to the present. He noticed those who remained in the castle were moving towards the front courtyard. He caught Ron and Hermione’s gaze and quickly paced his way over to them. “The two of you focus on the snake. I’ll do whatever I can.”

Ron nodded and, surprisingly, Hermione reached out a hand and squeezed his wrist once before they all turned and followed the crowd.

It was a sea of black as the Death Eaters trudged towards the castle, but it was the white figure dressed in black that was the main focal point. Voldemort strode victoriously, with his arms stretched out wide triumphantly. Just behind him, was a weeping Hagrid. He shuffled with tears cascading down his big cheeks as he held a lifeless Harry in his arms.

Draco’s eyes searched until they met the forest green orbs he wanted to see. Their eyes found each other like magnets; a million things were said between them before the piercing sound of Voldemort broke his attention. “Harry Potter is dead!” He announced with glee.

Vaguely, somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered Ginny Weasley screaming, but Draco, who knew what had become of Harry could not help but feel cold at the affirmation. His eyes turned back to Ember. Her eyes were sad, as if they had stayed that way since he saw her the night before when Snape was bleeding on the ground. She looked completely defeated, not even flinching as he saw Nagini swirl around her feet.

Nagini!

She was no longer kept captured in the protective sphere. He lifted his knuckle very slowly and tapped the back of Ron’s hand. The red head looked at him from the corner of his eye and Draco shifted his gaze pointedly towards the free roaming snake. Understanding dawned in Ron’s eyes and he relayed the silent message to Hermione. All three had been so otherwise consumed that none had recognized that the snake was right there for the taking. 

When Voldemort did not receive the reaction he had been hoping for, he glanced back at his followers, once again claiming, “Harry Potter is dead!”

This time they all began to laugh. Loud jeers filled the air and Voldemort indulged them with his own laughter until his eyes caught Ember’s who had remained solemnly standing. He stopped short at the misery in her eyes, feeling disgruntled that after all this time, she was still as silently defying as she had been when he first had a conversation with her.

Voldemort sucked in his teeth and dramatically twirled back towards the exhausted crowd of both students, professors, and anyone else who opposed him. Draco watched the exchange with a racing heart, feeling as if he was about to keel over from the adrenaline rush.

The essence of evil stretched out his arms welcomingly. “The time for fighting is over, let us now come together in this new world. The last blood need to be spilt is the boy’s. Come forward and join us!”

It was rather sore and in very poor taste that while trying to recruit more followers, he definitively brought the death of their would-be savior to the forefront as if he was no more than a soldier and not a loyal, fierce, friend.

No one moved and all remained silent.

Then, cut through the unifying silence, Draco heard his father’s strained voice call out to him. His grey eyes zeroed in on his father standing next to his mother. He wished his father hadn’t done many things, but he especially wished that his father had not called for him like a mother to a disobedient toddler in front of his peers. It only brought him greatly unwanted attention.

Voldemort tilted his head at the boy. He was always just about to forget that Draco even existed before someone brought him up like a reoccurring bad joke.

“Yes, Draco.” He addressed with only slightly masked contempt. “Come claim your rightful place by your wife and we shall let the past become the past.”

Draco did not need to hear the gasps of those around him to know they were shocked by the revelation that he was married and the consequential second-waved gasps of understanding when it connected that the only one on that side of the battle he could possibly of been married to was Ember Knight.

He grimaced at the offer, before holding his chin as high as he dared. He kept his feet firmly planted on the ground in answer to both his father and the Dark Lord.

He could see Voldemort’s red eyes darken from all the way on the other side of the courtyard, but before anything else could be said on the matter, Neville made short limping shuffles forward, with the sorting hat clutched in his hands, effectively drawing the attention of the Dark Lord.

“Well, I must say that I hoped for better.” Voldemort responded snidely, another round of chuckles rushing through the Death Eaters. “But I’m sure we can find a place for you amongst our ranks. What might your name be?”

“Neville Longbottom.” Neville spoke with a stern confidence. Impressed eyes followed the lanky boy who had always wilted underneath the presence of Snape, who compared to Voldemort was little more than a kitten.

The Death Eaters laughed again only this time Bellatrix’s maniacal laugh broke out above the rest and Draco struggled as he felt the wind knocked out of him. He had seen her dead body. He had been the one to close her eyes. He had mourned for her in his own way and to see her stood very much alive, cackling, no doubt remembering what she had done to the Longbottom’s, disturbed him greatly. His eyes trailed back to Ember, who seemed unable to draw her eyes away from him. He stared back at her sadly, understandingly. He wondered cautiously how such a sweet and docile being had been pushed so hard that she had succeeded in bringing someone back from the dead. He knew by looking at her face that he didn’t want to know the details.

Voldemort opened his mouth to say something, but Neville caught him off. “I’d like to say something.”

Voldemort’s face lowered into mollified annoyance but did not dissuade the only wizard who had come forth. “Well Neville, I’m sure we’d all be fascinated to hear what you have to say.”

“It doesn’t matter that Harry’s gone.” Neville began, the sorting hat wrinkling underneath his grip. “People die every day.” He turned to face Hogwarts. “Yeah, we lost Harry tonight, but he’s still with us; in here.” He pointed towards his chest powerfully. “So is everyone we lost tonight. They didn’t die in vain.” His face settled into that of a fierce warrior and he turned to face Voldemort. “But you will!”

Suddenly three things happened at once. Neville unsheathed the Sword of Gryffindor miraculously from the limp sorting hat and held it defyingly up at Voldemort, who was so disgruntled by the odd display of defiance that it took him a moment to realize that Harry Potter himself, the one that he had gladly proclaimed dead not five minutes prior, rolled out of the arms of Hagrid and shot to his feet- very much alive.

The third thing to happen was the hardest for Draco to watch.

Ember’s reaction time was incredible. She shot her feet out into the space between Harry and Voldemort quicker than anyone could truly determine. And instead of drawing her patronus and shielding Harry like Draco thought she was about to do- she did something else, that no one thought she was capable of. Her arms extended before her and out of her palms a large ball of blue light thrust toward Voldemort, knocking him off his feet.

All the Death Eaters stared at her in horror. Those at Hogwarts gasped.

Things started to get chaotic then. Draco remembered rushing forward, screaming as Bellatrix’s wand raised behind Ember and sent a green flash soaring towards her back. He remembered the feeling of being held back as bodies around him yelped in breathless glee when Harry took the opportunity Ember had given him and dashed over the broken ramparts before Voldemort could recover.

Draco needn’t have worried about Bellatrix though. Her killing curse rebounded off Ember, even though she stood completely defenseless with her patronus resting safely dormant in her chest. Bellatrix stared at her with fury but was unable to do anything else considering Voldemort had recovered and blasted Ember through the sky. Her thin body was sent crashing into the side of the castle’s courtyard and tumbled to the ground before he ran off in the direction of Harry Potter.

Madness ensued. The Death Eaters who had been shockingly watching this all unravel had all at once regained their dim wits and the battle resumed. Whoever had been holding Draco back, had let him go, and his feet dashed through the collision of forces as he made his way into the back corner of the battle to the shattered dove on the ground.

He always thought of her as a flightless bird; with all the abilities and courage to fly but all the restrictions of unwanted council sealing her firmly to the ground. He had to climb over separate piles of rubble, disarming wizards here and there before he saw her crumpled body, only to realize with great anxiety, that his father had made it to her before him. 

Lucius was crouched down next to Ember, turning her body over on her back.

Without thinking, Draco raised his wand and snarled darkly. “Get away from her.”

Lucius could not believe the sound of his own sons voice and turned his torso to see a wand dangerously pointed towards his nose. It wasn’t even shaking. It was as steady as a stone and Lucius did not recognize the body the wand was attached to. The older Malfoy raised his hands defensively and rose to his feet slowly so that he could truly look on what had become of his son.

“Draco…”

“No. I will not hear it.” The words were harsh, ripped from behind his teeth. Draco was sure in a way that he had not been atop the Astronomy Tower that if his words were not heeded, he would hex his father before he could manipulate himself out of the situation. “Now, get out of my sight before I curse you off this castle.”

Lucius waited a moment, but saw no lie in his son’s eye. It terrified him in a way that he had never been terrified before as the sight of all the strings that had once connected Draco to him had been completely severed. If he tried to speak, even to rid himself of this settling guilt, he was sure that his boy would not hear him out. And wasn’t that entirely the point that led them to this?

And so, Lucius Malfoy carefully walked to the side, Draco’s wand following him the entire time, until he met Narcissa’s hands and had to keep her from running to their son.  
Draco watched with a deep seated glare as his father kept his crying mother from reaching him. Instead, with one more look behind his shoulder, Lucius led a crying, fighting, Narcissa away from the castle and away from the battle. The moment Draco was sure that his father would not come back to intervene, he dropped his defense and fell to his knees at Ember’s side.

His heart broke against his ribs with every breath he took, but he held himself together by the thinnest of reasons. He brushed her hair out of her face and saw a gash across her temple, blood spilling down the left side of her face. He reached for her neck, pressing his fingers to her pulse point. It thumped beneath his fingers far too softly that he waited, with his breath caught in his lungs, a good long moment before he could convince himself that it was real.

He cupped her cheek. “Sweetheart, wake up, okay? Now is not the time to sleep. We can sleep when this is over.” Her eyes did not flutter and her breathing did not change. That sinking feeling that had been toeing for days in his chest dropped and the hysteria settled in. “Em, come on. Wake up and you can heal yourself and we’ll find Harry and we’ll end this. It’s almost over, you have to see it end. We’re so close.” 

Still no glow rose from her skin. 

“Ember.” He pleaded this time with heat. He would not allow this to happen. This would not be the reason she was gone. He reached one hand behind her neck and lifted it towards him. “You are going to be fine.” He said stubbornly. “You are going to wake up and heal and everything will be fine.” He insisted. Though his voice was strong his eyes were misty and the pale brunette blurred in his arms. Her neck had long, scarred over, thin lines wrapped around it and he ran his fingers over them softly before a chocked sob escaped his throat. The lines had been there for a while and it caused a deeper fear to circle his beating heart. For how could she heal herself if she hadn’t already healed those scars?

What was the point of all of this? All the arguments, and the doubts, and the never-ending pain, if at the end of this, he didn’t have her? She was the reason he had even made it this far. She was the reason he was who he was and a life without her was something he could not fathom. 

Her eyes fluttered and she groaned quietly. “You’ve always been so demanding,” She whispered out hoarsely. 

Something between a chuckle and a cry leaped out of his chest as he leaned back on his haunches and shook his head at the sky. He really had thought that was the end. His eyes flew back to hers, that were just blinking open, and he helped her sit up. She winced, clutching her head in her hands and he frowned. “Em, why aren’t you healing yourself?”

She looked up at him and grimaced. “I can’t. I don’t have the energy. Bellatrix screwed everything up.”

Still, with the harsh neck lines, blood pouring from open wounds, and Draco guessed several cracked ribs at the very least, she pulled herself up to stand, only allowing Draco to help steady her. Her green eyes scanned the area and the battle raging behind them. “Where’s Harry?” She asked, confused.

Suddenly the sounds of war flooded back into Draco’s ears and the ringing thought that Harry was alive finally blasted through his mind. The joy only lasted a millisecond before terror replaced it. Harry could fight Voldemort all he wanted but it wouldn’t matter if Harry didn’t have the power of Draco’s wand.

“Shit.” Draco breathed, giving her a once over. He did not want to leave her, banged and barely conscious in the midst of a combat heavy war zone, but as he had learned over the years, what he wanted mattered very little to the universe. “I’ve got to find them.”

She reached her hand out to him as he began to turn from her. “Wait. Why do you have to find them?” 

He twisted back, “Just trust me.” He took the time, when there wasn’t any, to lean forward and attach his chapped lips to hers; her face held delicately in his hands. 

“Find Hermione and help kill Nagini.” He half yelled as he already started running to the last area he had seen Harry and Voldemort.

~

Ember stared dumbfounded as Draco ran faster than she had ever seen him back through the battle. Her body ached everywhere and she desperately wanted water, but there were more important things at hand and she darted as quickly as her ribs would let her towards the entrance hall.

She had to be extremely careful though as she dodged her way around duels. She did not have any protection as she weaved through the battle. Thankfully, the giants and spider and the majority of the werewolves, had been kept to the forest after the “death” of Harry Potter. It still proved difficult being reduced to that of a squib in the midst of a magical battle.

The thought to maybe scour the ground for a forgotten wand came to her mind just a moment before Neville, running full force down the stairs, caught her eye. Abandoning her search, she followed to see a thin sword slice through Nagini’s neck in one fell swoop. The once magnificent snake turned to dust, just as she was lunging for Hermione and Ron.

Ember was stuck, staring wide eyed at the scene, that when Ron shouted for her to duck, she barely dropped to the ground at the top of the stairs before Macnair tripped over her and tumbled down the flight.

Hermione thrust her wand up and shouted, “Stupefy!”

Macnair twisted once before falling at the bottom of the stairs, his legs at an odd angle, in a paralyzed heap.

Ember leaned up on her forearms and huffed out a breath after she met their eyes. “Thank you,” She breathed.

Hermione quickly ran up the stairs and grasped Ember’s arm to help her stand. Ron was quick behind her, having taken two steps at a time, and helped to support Ember’s weight on her right side until she got her footing. “That was brilliant what you did out there.” Ron exclaimed, a large grin on his face. “When did you find out you could do that?”

Ember chuckled humorlessly. “Just then. I haven’t been able to do anything, so it was on a whim.”

Hermione shook her head, baffled, and the four of them filed down the stairs towards the Great Hall where the majority of the fighting was still taking place. “Where’s Draco?” Ron asked.

Ember shook her head, swallowing painfully. “He said he had to go find Harry and that I should find you.”

Hermione took a very unsteady breath and bobbed her head up and down, her bushy hair bouncing.

“Well, let’s hope he finds him in time.” Ron muttered, before disarming another Death Eater.

Ron and Hermione kept Ember between them as they advanced into the room. Ember tried to help were she could, but it was useless. Whatever magic she had was shortcoming.

“Why? What’s going on?” Ember asked, before the a smoky figure of Voldemort, chasing down Harry, waltzed into the room. She heard a scream off to the side and saw Bellatrix breathe in her last breath before she was blasted into ash and miraculous the heavy chains around Ember’s soul clattered away with the ash and she felt like she could truly breathe. 

Then, with the sensation of freedom rushing through her veins, she heard a voice she knew extremely well, shout, “Harry!”

~

Draco couldn’t find them. He wandered through the castle desperately taking turns, his breaths coming in heavy pants, his lungs screaming at him. A loud crash sounded, causing him to flinch and upon turning, shield his eyes from the heavy spurts of red and green colliding and, ironically, completely destroying the Astronomy tower. A massive cloud of black twisted and turned to the ground below before taking a turn and crashing back into the Hall of Stairs. The two tumbled down them, rolling until their momentum halted them just before an panting Draco.

Harry quickly sprung back to his feet and glanced behind him as he began backing up into the Great Hall, where Molly Weasley had just vaporized the repossessed Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry saw Voldemort’s eyes glance away from him as Bellatrix’s body shattered into grey dust. He growled, floating back to his feet, and advancing viciously on Harry once more.

Suddenly, with Harry and Voldemort having been brought into the Great Hall, the fighting around them ceased. Mostly because there were currently more Order members than Death Eaters alive, but those Death Eaters who were there were just as inclined to watch the final showdown between Tom Riddle and Harry Potter as the rest of them were. But before the calamity had softened into nothing, Draco shouted, “Harry!” 

All eyes were on him for just a second as he lifted up his wand. Voldemort twisted to look at him just long enough for Harry to redirect his energy towards Draco and shout, “Expelliarmus!”

Draco’s wand sprung out of his hand willingly and vaulted through the air before landing safely in Harry’s. Voldemort turned back abruptly at the scene, his red eyes glancing between them curiously.

Harry smirked and the hall fell quiet.

Draco shifted from around Voldemort and fell into his rightful place next to Ember.

“You miscalculated Tom.” Harry said and Voldemort snarled. “You were right. That wand isn’t working for you because you were not its rightful master. You see Snape didn’t disarm Dumbledore on that tower. Draco did.” Harry explained, raising his wand, prepared to strike the final blow. “And now that I’ve disarmed Draco, the power of the wand lies with-“

“NO!” Voldemort screamed, and before the boy could play at striking him down, he tugged at Ember, expecting her to come flying to intercept whatever spell Potter had up his sleeve, but she did not move. She stood there next to her traitor of a husband and glowered at him. The moment he realized that the bond had been damaged took him a moment too long. By the time he raised his wand and hollered, “Avada Kedavra!” Harry had already finished shouting, “Expelliarmus!”

The spells collided with a bang, causing everyone on the sides to take three steps back, raising their hands to block the bright ball of collision. Red sparks easily overtook the green and the Elder wand, finally recognizing it’s true master, vaulted out of Voldemort’s grasp and spun through the air before Harry caught it. The green of the killing curse quickly rebounded, slicing through Voldemort until he was nothing more than a man once more.

Tom Riddle landed on his back, his white body shriveling in on itself until, much like a snake, he flattened to the ground, his skin peeling off in flakes and leaving nothing behind but grey ash and a dark cloak on the ground.

It was deathly quiet in the hall for a split second before an uproar of applause and gratitude filled the hall. Ron and Hermione dashed towards Harry, throwing their arms around him before the others had a chance to grab him. Other, older Order of the Phoenix members kept their wands pointed at the remaining Death Eaters, quickly encircling them so that they could not escape. Other, more fortunate Death Eaters who were placed near the entrance, made a break for it, still having the ability to apparate off the grounds.

Ember and Draco, who had begun to cheer with the others, were blindsidingly quiet. They were staring at each other in horrendous shock holding their hands, fingers splayed, between them. The moment Voldemort had hit the ground, a vivid burning unraveled over their fingers, right were their corresponding names were etched into each other’s skin, and left no mark remaining of their dark marriage.

After nearly two years, they were no longer connected to each other. They were no longer married in the laws that held their marriage. The bond of a dark marriage is held together by its initiate, and the moment Voldemort died so did the bounds of their marriage.

Draco felt an all new concern ripple through him. This is what he had wanted. To be free of his parents and of this forced marriage, but now with his life his own, he could only stare at the girl in front of him whose expression mirrored his.

Ember felt her world simultaneously open and close. The monster of her nightmares had been vanquished, but now nothing held the only person in her world to her anymore. She was alone, no longer together, just alone. Draco had always wanted to free of their marriage, and it would be foolish of her to think that this didn’t change everything between them.

It was a long moment with monumental cheers raining all around the two of them, managing to do the impossible, staring at each other trying to read the others mind.

Ember broke their eye contact, feeling much more inadequate than she did a moment ago. She rubbed the place Draco’s name had been in silent awe. It was strange how something so permanent could be erased without a thought.

Draco frowned wanting nothing more than to sit and hold her awhile before having a long discussion on everything missed over the past few days. So it was him, who took those few steps. He reached out and snatched her body to his, not carrying at the moment that he was probably aggravating her sore ribs. He enfolded her against his chest, one arm on her lower back and the other holding her back of her head to his chest. She gripped his shirt in tight grasps letting out a breathy sob as she held him to her as much as he held her to him.

It wasn’t purely back and white and they, for the first time, had the time to talk and figure where they went from there.


	50. The Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So this is the only chapter that I still am not happy with and is subject to change in the future. So think of it more like a bonus chapter!

“Is the only reason your holding me tonight, cause we’re scared to be lonely?”  
-Martin Garrix, Dua Lipa, Scared to be Lonely

Time moved strangely after that. It was like one large sigh that kept expelling. 

Ember and Draco had not spoken about the fact that they were no longer married other than to discuss it with Hermione who concurred their analysis. If a dark marriage was performed with the soul of the maker then it unravels if the maker perishes. It was another reason why dark marriages didn’t last, and that no one had heard about them. Ember demanded to know the book Hermione had read to have figured out all of this and mentally added it to her to-do list.

They were also stranded. They couldn’t go back to Malfoy Manor, not that they wanted to. Draco assumed that is where his parents had fled the battle to and he had no doubt that his father had put up hundreds of protective spells around the estate to slow down the marshals when they inevitably came to collect him. 

Most of the students, who had been dismissed for the year, had gone home to their parents. Only a few were allowed to stay under the supervision of Professor McGonagall. Ember and Draco were one of the few.

McGonagall approached them that afternoon and asked them if they would be willing to stay behind and help repair the castle. It was a rough extension of protection and acceptance from the older woman and they both jumped at the offer. 

In the midst of the celebration, the mourning, and the overall exhaustion of the forces, Draco and Ember hadn’t had a chance to unwind and talk about all that had passed in the few days they had been separated, and where this strange turn of events left them. 

They managed to sneak away, to the room that had once been theirs the year before, late into the evening. Once Harry had escaped back to the Gryffindor dormitories for some well-deserved sleep, the groups of witches and wizards in the Great Hall had dispersed.

They were quiet as they walked down to the dungeons with Blaise, making slight small talk until he left them be to continue onto his own bed in the Slytherin dormitories. They continued into the bedroom that they had left in a hurry so long ago, an uncomfortable silence following them.

Ember couldn’t seem to look him in the eye knowing how angry he was with her. She couldn’t blame him. If he had done the things she had, she would have been furious. They were supposed to be a team, and teams made decisions together; but she had willingly lowered herself back in the hole they had escaped from without any input from him, consequentially putting both their lives in danger. It made her no better than their parents, and she regretted it deeply; especially now that there was no reason for him to hear her out. He didn’t owe her anything, and it wasn’t like they needed to air things out, because they no longer had to live connected with one another.

But they did. They did need to air things out. The balance between them had considerably shifted at Voldemort’s demise and Draco could see her pulling away from him. In her eyes, in her smile, in the way she kept herself closed off from everyone, even from him. She had played the part of celebratory witch quite well this evening, but he knew her better than that.

When the door was shut behind them, and she still couldn’t look at him, he coughed awkwardly. “We need to talk.”

His voice startled her, as much as his words did, and her green eyes flashed to his in a gaze that was very reminiscent of the first few days she was at the manor.

He sighed, “But I’m filthy and tired, so how about we talk about this over a bath?”

She blinked. “In the bath?” 

She hadn’t expected him to want to share the room with her past tonight and he wanted to talk while they were in the bath, together?

He had already begun to unbutton his shirt and gave her an inquisitive look. “Yeah?” He drawled, stepping out of his toes. “Unless you don’t want to?” He held his hands up defensively as he moved towards the washroom. “No funny business, I promise. I’m too exhausted.”

She blinked at him again. It wasn’t so much of a fact that she didn’t want to, it was more that she thought that it would be much harder to have a constructive conversation when they were both naked, and slippery. It was embarrassing enough that he was going to scold her and effectively break up with her, but to do it while naked? That would be bottled mortification.

Oh sure, he would be gentle when he let her down. He would state logically that they should remain friends and that she would always hold a place in his heart, but they didn’t have to stay together and they were both still really young. You didn’t just settle down in your late teens because you wanted to.

Still, she couldn’t quite refuse him. And at his expectant look she sighed and began to strip of her blood stained dress.

~

Draco knew something was deeply off. Ember shied away from him in a way that she hadn’t in months and it worried him that she didn’t immediately crawl into his lap when they both entered the bath. 

The tub was just big enough for both of them, and while this was a nice bonus, Draco had been planning on holding her to his chest as they talked and soaked, but she sat on the other side, just their legs touching, barely meeting his eyes. 

Her bruised skin stretched too thin over brittle bones and he wondered if she was in any pain. She looked as if one gust of wind would sweep her off the planet. With Ron’s account and her visible suffering, Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to know what had truly happened to her. Still, none of this was reason enough for her not to meet his eyes.

He sighed. “What’s wrong?”

Her brows furrowed as she crossed her arms over her breasts, even though he couldn’t see them from the massive amounts of bubbles. “I-what do you mean?”

“Why are you all the way over there? Why can’t you even look at me?” He asked. He had learned a lot of patience when it came to Ember, but now as it seemed that the stable ground they had always stood on was shifting under them, he wanted to nip whatever was going on with her in the bud. He didn’t have the energy to play these games. 

She met his eyes, the green swirling with little specs of liquid gold seeming to soften at the warmth in his irises.

“Aren’t you mad?” She asked softly.

He nodded. “Oh, I’m furious, but it’s been too long and I want you here,” He pointed to his chest, “right now.”

“But why?” She asked with a pout, making no move towards him.

He shook his head, his eyes tight. “What do you mean why? Because I missed you.”

She huffed, completely bewildered. “I don’t understand. We don’t have to do this anymore. So why…?” She trailed off.

Her eyes were so confused and he had enough of the space between them. He leaned forward, reached out, and snatched her up, rearranging her until she was nestled in his lap, sideways, against his chest. 

She didn’t protest, mostly because she was still baffled that he wanted her this close, and rested against his slick chest without much insistence. He rested his forehead against her temple. “Nothing has changed, so why are you acting so shy?”

“Nothing’s changed? Everything has changed!” She exploded. She leaned back so that she could see his unguarded eyes. “You never wanted this. So why wouldn’t you want out of it?” She demanded.

“Out of this?” He said with an edge in his tone. He grabbed the back of her neck gently, angling her to look into his eyes. “I love you. I didn’t say that because I had to. I said it because I do. Us not being legally married anymore changes nothing for me. I’ll go marry you right now if you care that much about the label.”

She stared at him with a deep wrinkle in her forehead. She couldn’t compute it, and the frustration of her own limitations started to make her temples throb. 

He sighed, almost resignedly, and let his hand on her neck trail down to her shoulder and push her dampening hair off her shoulder. “Everything has changed. All of those reasons, all of those hopes from two years ago…they’ve changed. I didn’t want to be pushed into a corner and caged without a voice. But somehow, amongst all this shit, we managed to form this relationship. And damn it Em, I can’t live without that now. Him dying, it’s given our choices back to us. But my choice is you.” He grinned, tracing his fingers over her delicate jaw. “The irony is not lost on me.”

Completely baffled, Ember took his words for what they were worth, and rested her head on his shoulder. She stared at his collarbone with a strange sense of content; as if her heart could finally rest. 

He let them enjoy the clearing of the settling dust for a while, until the hot water turned to a dull lukewarm. Her safe in his arms with her skin pressed against him and his head resting on hers did not erase the damage done to him with her absence.

He cleared his throat. “Now, would you like to tell me what the hell you were thinking?” His tone was not as aggressive as he thought that it should have been. In fact, it was much softer than he would have liked, but, still, she tensed in his arms, and he figured that it really made no difference if he whispered his aggravations as opposed to shouting them.

She leaned back, and had the grace to bow her head. Her lip wiggled between her teeth, before she met his eyes. “I am sorry. I’m not sure that I can say that I truly regret it or that if given the chance that I would choose differently, but I am sorry for what I must have put you through.”

“I,” He started before his mind came up blank and he had to let out a long sigh before trying to speak again. “I just don’t get it. You went to Snape to distract him and yet he managed to manipulate you into returning to the manor?”

She felt a sharp sting in the center of her chest at the name. She hadn’t processed that particular death and she wondered if she would ever truly be able to. “He didn’t manipulate me.” She murmured, distractedly.

His eyes narrowed, even though she was not looking at him and rather staring at the murky water lapping at their skin in the space between them. “Then what happened?”

Her lips twitched and she sighed herself. “We just talked.”

“Talked?”

She could feel herself getting worked up about it and she couldn’t decipher why. “Yes.” She stressed, meeting his eyes with a new fervor. “We talked, just like we always do.” Did. She shook her head. “He had some good points. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“That’s manipulating you.”

“No it isn’t!” 

The water sloshed around them at her movement and she realized that she had had enough for this never-ending day and rose from her spot. Her feet pattered on the ground as she reached for a towel and wrapped it around her suddenly shivering body. 

Draco grabbed his temple and dropped down into the water, submerging himself. It was the first peaceful moment he had had in days. He didn’t want to be arguing with her, but he felt that these things were impertinent. He was upset, and he was upset that she wasn’t upset and fucking hell he just wanted to understand.

When he came back up for air, she had already gone back into the main room.

~

There had been no time to talk about their issues in the following days. Reparations were at the forefront of everyone’s priorities. Whatever joy of having Voldemort destroyed had been dampened by the destruction and death that was left in his wake.

The foundations of the castle were strong and everyone that had stayed behind was delegated into groups with sections of the castle. Draco loathed the fact that, conveniently, Ember was not in his group and yet he was still stuck with three sevenths (or now he supposed, sixths) of the Weasleys. His group was in charge of repairing the damage to the Clock Tower Courtyard and the completely destroyed bridge that connected it to the Forbidden Forest.

It was slow work, even with magic. 

And by the time he was left alone with Ember, not only was she tired and halfway unconscious, but he was exhausted. The stress of everything had not evaporated with the death of Voldemort. He was still anxious over the fallout and where Ember and he fell into it. 

The awkwardness that surrounded the two of them was nothing compared to the comradery they had amongst them. Sure, the days were spent with hard work and trying to uncluster the cluster fuck the wizarding world was in, but the nights, the nights, were spent with warm fires, boisterous laughter, and such stories rich with insight that Draco couldn’t bring himself to be overtly disappointed in the lack of time that was allotted to Ember and their seemingly ghost of a relationship. It was the first time he had truly felt a part of the group without the ties of obligation and necessity. They no longer sneered at him, and he in return felt no need to stoke an all but extinguished fire. 

None of this meant that he didn’t still miss, and long, for time alone with Ember. She might no longer be his wife, but she was his best friend above them all, and would remain there always.

It was almost her birthday when he finally got her alone with enough time to constructively converse about this transparent wall cast between them. 

She had walked into their room with her hair collected in her fingers, stroking out the tangles, when he realized that she was almost seventeen. She would be how old he had been when they had started on this crazy adventure. It seemed ridiculous to think about how much she had changed in the past two years. 

“Hey,” She sighed, coming to sit with him in the twin chair by the fire. He would have preferred her to have sat cuddle up with him, but he supposed that he should be grateful that she sat near him at all.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t spoken since the precipice they had clung to the night, or morning, after the battle. It was just that they hadn’t talked. It had all been niceties, familiarities, nothing worth much weight in the grand scheme of things. Which would have been fine if they hadn’t had this gaping, frustrating, miscommunication between them. 

“Hey,” He responded in kind.

“I think McGonagall would quite possibly murder you if she knew you were comparatively ruining this room.” She said casually, finally tying off the ends of her hair in a braid that Luna had shown her a few days prior.

Draco pursed his lips, but stared down at the lit cigarette between his fingers. Ember was most certainly right about that. McGonagall would turn him into something much worse than a ferret if she knew he was contaminating the room with smoke. But he had a severe itch for nicotine with all the stress coming from unsuspecting places.

He shrugged. He doubted McGonagall would ever come down here when they were still occupying the room. And so what if she did? He would make a handsome rug if nothing else.

Her eyes had not yet met his in a way that he could hold them; in a way that he could ascertain what was running through her mind. She was staring at the flames that he had turned to purple just for the hell of it.

“Are you still angry with me?” He asked wearily.

Her head lifted and cocked to the side, green eyes finally meeting his. “I was never angry with you. I think the better question is, are you still angry with me?”

He took another drag. It wasn’t that he was angry with her. His fury with all that she had kept from him had simmered long ago, only to be left with frustration. Why had she had to make things so murky? He felt the same. He thought she felt the same. Why did a label have to matter to her? They had beat the odds and yet she doubted everything.

“No,” He finally said, exhaling a lungful of smoke. “A lot has happened Em, but nothing has changed.”

It no longer mattered that she had gone back to their nightmare without consulting him, manipulated or not. It no longer mattered that she might have known about the severe significance the dark marriage had. It didn’t matter. All that mattered now was that it felt like she was slipping through his fingers, like a ghost; like she could have always only been a figment of his imagination.

Her brow furrowed, like she was about to argue with him, but she remained silently mulling over his short words. A lot had happened since the battle.

At first she was frustrated that she couldn’t articulate that Snape had not manipulated her and that she couldn’t quite see how despite everything, with choices by the thousands, Draco still wanted her by his side.

She had never doubted his feelings before, so it shouldn’t have made a difference now; and it wasn’t until Luna had asked after their short communications that she had figured out the reason. It wasn’t that she doubted his feelings, it was that she doubted her own, as she so often did. It wasn’t that he was given all the choices in the world and he still chose her, it was that she was now given all the choices…and didn’t know what to do with them.

“I love you.” She stated matter-of-factly, to him or to herself she still wasn’t quite sure. “But I don’t want to wake up one day, weeks, months, years into the future to you not wanting me. I’m so…intrinsically wound around you, or you’re so intrinsically wound in me. I think that if we let this go on, knowing that nothing held us together but our own feelings, and one day you left…I would be nothing.”

He suddenly understood and it stumped his immediate reassuring response. 

“That’s the risk you take in any normal relationship. Would you rather I have to stay with you out of obligation or because I wanted to?”

She paused. “But what if you don’t really want to? What if you just think that you do now because that’s the easiest option?”

He sighed, letting out a humorless, unbelievable, laugh. “Would you stop thinking so much?”

If he only knew, that that was precisely her problem. She couldn’t stop thinking. About their nonexistent marriage, about the future, about the fact that no matter what she did, her patronus wouldn’t come to her.

He got out of his chair and knelt in front of hers, turning her chin to look at him when her eyes remained on the flames. He stared at her, for a long moment, calmly. “Do you not want to be with me?”

“It’s not-“

“No,” He urged, tightening his hold. “Forget about the future, forget about the past couple of days, forget about what everyone else might think. What do you want?”

That was the real question. When had she ever known what she wanted? When was she ever given that choice? And now that she had one, she was overwhelmed by the responsibility. 

But as she looked in his bluest of blue eyes she saw only tenderness and certainty. She knew that if she explained that this wasn’t what she wanted, he would back off graciously and that she would see him around. They’d exchange pleasantries in passing, share secret looks for years, but that they would never be what they were now; so seamlessly connected. She shivered at the thought.

She blinked feeling her chest caving in. Everything felt like it was changing, and while she knew that most of those changes were better than the alternative, she wanted this, with Draco, to remain the same.

“I want things to be as they were.” She managed to croak out, emotions bubbling in her throat.

The desperate edge to her voice simultaneously broke and repaired the pressure mounting in his chest and he gathered her in his arms. She buried her face in his chest like a frightened kitten and breathed in his reassuring scent. “They will be sweetheart, they will be, only better I promise.”

He knew that they would be fine. They, just like everyone in the wizarding world, needed time to adjust. 

Whatever pain had been caused could be placed aside. They had had worse. She had always had worse.


	51. Epilogue: Forget Me Not

“I’m here to remind you, what’s lost is never gone. You will forget, forget, forget, forget me not.”  
-Marianas Trench, Forget Me Not

They stayed together always.

When they had been summoned to the ministry in front of a jury to answer for the crimes that they had been a part of, it was with their hands clasped together. Draco had always known that it would end there, had always expected that howler to find them. What he hadn’t expected was to get a pardon based on the testimony of Harry Potter himself.

Harry had met them in the court and irrefutably cast out all charges given to them. The court, while not happy that two known Death Eaters were going to walk away scotch free, could not dispute the word of Harry Potter himself. Ember had hugged the boy tightly and after they had parted, Draco had hugged him as well. He had given them back their future and had become a trusted friend.

When Draco had decided to go back to Malfoy manor, Ember was right by his side. Lucius Malfoy had been sentenced to the rest of his life in Azkaban after a nasty trial and Draco had not seen him since the battle. Narcissa Malfoy had been harder to put behind bars, and it was only by Ember’s testimony that the ministry had decided to place Narcissa on house arrest-indefinitely.

When they had walked into the house of their nightmares, it was with a sense of closure. The black interior was not so intimidating, and clearing the air with Narcissa was much needed, but it was the stories the walls would always shelter that kept the couple from returning as often as they would have liked to see Narcissa.

Her ability had come back to her very gradually. The days spent bound to Voldemort and the act of returning Bellatrix from the grave had broken her connection to that magic that had rest inside her. And when they did come back, it was without their full strength. No matter how hard she worked, she was never again able to force her patronus to another, nor was she able to shield herself completely. She could only heal minor injuries and hold her glow amongst herself, and even then she would be out of it for days recovering.

When the fall had rolled back around it was filled with choices. Professor McGonagall had asked for a meeting with Ember, where they discussed all that had passed. Her powers, her work with Snape, her magic background; all of it was up for grabs. And at the end of it, McGonagall offered Ember a place at Hogwarts to finish out her sixth and seventh year. 

It wasn’t a hard choice. Ember didn’t know if she wanted to stay in the wizarding world forever, but when you are offered a spot at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you don’t reject it. She had been resorted, then and there in the same office that she had been sorted in with Dumbledore, at the insistence of McGonagall, and this time, without all the blurry confusion and long gone influence of her parents in her head, she was sorted in Hufflepuff.

Draco had laughed at the idea that he was dating a Hufflepuff, but was insanely proud of her all the same.

And so, when September first rolled around, Draco and Ember (with her very own wand) boarded the Hogwarts Express and sat with Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Harry. 

Ron had decided to ignore the last year of his education in lieu of a position as an auror. At the end of the war, the golden trio had all been awarded the opportunity, but in the end, only Ron had accepted. Hermione would not be Hermione if she did not complete her education and as for Harry, he became the new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts for there was no one better.

Hogwarts was strange. Draco and Ember were separated by their dormitories and their studies and the years they were in, but it was like a do-over where they got to experience what it would should have been like. And when Draco graduated, he applied for a position as an auror himself. He had even been accepted only to have the smile wipe off his face his first day when he was partnered with a grinning Ron Weasley.

They fought what dark wizards remained for years together. The two were a surprisingly strong team and balanced each other nicely. Before they had kids, Ron and Hermione and Harry and Ginny had even gone on a long holiday with Ember and Draco.

When Ember graduated, she went back to Books Less Travelled, rejoicing in the fact that her co-workers had not forgotten her. She worked for them, legitimately, for a year; in which she apparated daily from Britain to Canada, before becoming tired with all the back and forth and began to work alongside Luna at the Quibbler.

Draco and Ember married again almost two years after Voldemort’s death. It wasn’t a big affair. While their first wedding had been surrounded by the enemy, this time they had been surrounded by friends. Even Narcissa had been able to attend, as they decided to hold the affair at the gardens of Malfoy Manor, underneath the gazebo where Ember use to dream.

Their lives ran smoothly for years. They never had children, mostly because neither wanted them, but Draco also wanted the name Malfoy to die with him so that no other would ever feel the weight the name brought. So in spite of an unbreakable vow made decades earlier to ensure pure bloodlines; both the Knight’s and the Malfoy’s blood would die with them. 

In place of children, they had cats. Ember had been positively smitten when she had met Hermione’s cat Crookshanks, having had no idea that cats were a household thing, and begged for one. Draco had given her a black and grey marbled kitten on her twenty-third birthday and chocked on his gin when she had decided to name him Severus. 

Severus the cat, much like the Severus the man, did not much like Draco. He was always sneaking in between the two of them at night, letting his tail smack Draco in the face, or knocking all of Draco’s paperwork off the kitchen table. But Severus calmed down when they got Penelope, a Himalayan cat, for he was as smitten with her as he was with Ember.

The horrors of the past had remained quiet for years, collecting a thin layer of dust, so it came as a shock when Ember’s memories started to fade.

Little patches disappeared as the easy days of their lives passed them by. And when Ember woke up one day only speaking French and not knowing who Draco was, they decided, when she was lucid, that they needed to take her to St. Mungo’s.

The nurses had little answers when they had explained all that had happened to Ember’s mind in her youth. It was obviously a side-effect of being obliviated consistently as a child and possibly due to the complications with her abilities, her inner healing wasn’t able to contain the hidden damage that still reared its ugly head in sparse mental attacks from time to time. But there was no fix; she would continue to fade away until she was nothing but the embers of a fable. Ember cried at the unfairness of it all and Draco held her through it; he would only breakdown his own when he was alone.

And so, with little left of their future, Draco took a year off work and they travelled to all the places they said they would. They re-visited Canada where they ate pastries amongst pastries and Ember even got another tattoo from the same parlor (the constellation Draco just under her collarbone). They travelled to Barbados where they attempted to tan on the beach and drink themselves silly. They even travelled to Antarctica where Ember had to save Draco from being attacked by an aggressive penguin. They tried to make as many memories as possible before things got bad. By September, Ember was having more and more forgetful spells and it forced them to return back to their cottage.

Ember died in her sleep on a cold January night at the age of thirty three. 

Draco had been inconsolable. One day she had been smiling brightly at him, all blushed cheeks and green eyes, and the next she was laid cold next to him; her mind finally at rest.

~

The following weeks came like taunts. 

First it was the funeral, a cold affair that Draco only made it through with the help of some painfully expensive scotch and Blaise’s arm wrapped around his shoulders. The mourners were extensive, and honestly Draco had been surprised to see how many lives his quiet Ember had touched. He shouldn’t have been.

And then, after the funeral, returning to their home seemed blasphemous without her, but it wasn’t. It was just sad and hollow and lonely. Severus and Penelope were constantly under his toes as if they were scared that he too would leave them.

So then, he returned to work and braved the sympathetic glances and egregiously kind words from everyone. They all treated him like glass, especially Ron, and it angered him exceptionally, but at least the anger was kinder than the grief. At least there he could be of use to someone. But it was clear that his heart, and more importantly his mind, wasn’t in it.

The tipping point, where that torrent of tears he had locked up since the funeral was released, was when Penelope died shortly after. She had gradually begun to lose her appetite, and lounged on Ember’s pillow more than she did anything else. Draco returned home late one night to find her dead, just like Ember, with Severus sitting next to her, standing guard.

The marbled cat’s light green eyes confirmed Draco’s fear and he broke down in a fit of agony. 

In that moment, he wanted to get rid of anything that reminded him of Ember. All the clothes, the pictures, the furniture- anything that would carry memories of her. But it would have been useless, there wasn’t a single thing that she had not touched in the house. And above everything else, in those last dark nights where her eyes had been frightened and her skin had been pale, he had promised that he wouldn’t forget; that he would remember for the both of them.

He hadn’t anticipated how painful memories could be.

It was why he hadn’t moved in days when Luna had come to check up on him.

After knocking on the door multiple times to be polite, she unlocked the door herself and narrowly escaped tripping over a pile of unopened mail. The lights were off as she travelled along the hallway and found Draco slumped over the small wooden table, strewn with empty cigarette cartons and bottles, in the kitchen with eyes swollen shut.

Luna slowly placed the forgotten mail and the casserole she had made on the counter and cautiously placed her hand on Draco’s shoulder, shaking it lightly.

His eyes blinked open blearily and he croaked, having not been fully conscious, or sober, yet, and croaked hoarsely, “Em?”

Luna frowned and bent down in front of him so that he could see her sparkling blue eyes. “I’m afraid it’s just me, Draco.”

His face scrunched together as he lifted his head and chest from the table. “Sorry Luna.” He mumbled, placing his head in his hands.

Luna rubbed his back comfortingly. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. Ron said that you hadn’t been to work in a few days. I thought that I would come bring you some food.”

“Check up on me, you mean?” He snorted dully. 

She frowned, but was use to his particular dryness. “We’re all worried about you.”

He let out a long sigh. He wanted to say that he was fine, or that he was at least on his road to fine, but he couldn’t lie to Luna. He’d never been able to and he wasn’t about to start now. “Sit down Luna.” He mumbled, standing up and going to start a pot of coffee. 

She sat down in the only remaining chair, trying not to think that it had been Ember’s place just a few weeks ago.

“I brought in your mail for you.” She whispered as he moved about the kitchen.

He wiped a hand down his face as he leaned on the counter and eyed the mountain of mail Luna had left on the counter. It had been coming in large amounts since Ember died, especially from that stupid Wallace from Books Less Travelled. Apparently Ember had still been helping him on a project for the better part of a year and he had been sending interesting tidbits to Draco, thinking that he was being helpful.

Luna took the time to look around the kitchen and the adjoining sitting room. She had been in their cottage many times before, but she had never been inside of it without Ember. She hadn’t really been inside of it for the past year and she took in the slight changes with interested eyes. 

There were pictures everywhere. Some were hung up in nice frames on the wall. Some were stuck to the refrigerator or tucked into the corner of the cabinets. Others, the ones that interested her, were strewn about on tables and bookshelves with seemingly no rhyme or reason. Most of them had Ember in them to some degree, and she wondered if it was healthy for Draco to see her face everywhere he went.

Luna startled as she felt something brush up against her leg and looked down to see the sweet gleaming eyes of Severus. “Hello there Severus,” She greeted before leaning down, picking him up, and placing him in her lap. She nuzzled behind his ears lovingly before looking back to Draco who was now sorting through the mail with tired eyes. 

“Where’s Penny?” Luna asked, and immediately regretted it. 

Draco’s fingers paused and his eyes met hers with a new form of shinning grief. He cleared his throat twice before responding in a whisper, “She died on Wednesday.”

“Oh,” Luna breathed. This was much worse than she was expecting to walk into. The thirty five year old widow just couldn’t catch a break.

“Yeah.” He drawled out the word, distracted; his face pinched together with discomfort. His fingers pressed hard into the parchment of the mail and he could feel the sudden strain in his shoulders.

It wasn’t the first time he had received a letter from his father. Most of the time he burned them before even reading them. But sometimes his heart would long to know the words of his father, and this caught him, depressed as he was, on a day where any pain that was different from the pain of Ember’s death was a welcomed distraction.

Taking only a moment’s hesitation, he ripped open the letter. The words seemed to blur together in his impatience and it wasn’t until he felt Luna’s hand gently rest on his forearm that he realized he had been shaking.

The letter was filled with unmasked pity. Somehow, someone, had told him about Ember and it managed to drag three long paragraphs of apologies and regrets and how much Lucius had always admired her, which Draco knew to be bullshit.

But it was the end of the letter that was both expected and interesting. He wanted Draco to visit him, said that he had important things to discuss, that Draco would be interested in. This in and of itself was nothing new. Lucius always wanted Draco to visit him, but it was here at the end of his mental capacity that he considered going to him.

He hadn’t seen him in nearly seventeen years. Only once he had gotten the courage to make it all the way to the visitors office that was just off-shore of Azkaban. He could still remember sitting with jittery legs in the hallway with Ember’s chin resting on his shoulder, her cold hand in his. He hadn’t been able to go through with it in the end, and they had left just as they had arrived, with heads bowed and shuffling feet.

This time it would be different. He wouldn’t have Ember to stand beside him, but it was precisely that fact that formed an itch he wanted to scratch.

~

He stood there in the dreary grey waiting room for nearly half an hour, pacing, his hands twitching to hold those of a ghost. 

His mother was allowed to visit Lucius once a year. In the beginning she had begged for Draco to come with her, but he had refused for obvious reasons. Now, he wished that he had gone with her, or that she was there with him now, so that he might have a crutch or some idea how this all would go.

Luna had offered to go with him, as sweet as she was, but it didn’t feel right. Anyone besides Ember next to him would have felt wrong. And so he stood there with his hands in his pockets, alone; trying to be ready to face the past.

He didn’t have to wait long. Two guards, of the human variety, opened the extravagantly tall door behind the receptionist’s desk and bid him to follow. Taking a deep breath, he pushed one foot in front of the other.

The hallway was narrow and uncomfortably cold. Dementors were lined up on either side of the path, sucking every inch of happiness. It was a good thing Draco had not much happiness left in him. They disturbed him not, only the biting cold wafting over his skin reminded him of small nimble fingers and green eyes.

The guards turned down another long hallway, opened a door just off the intersection, and there he was.

His shoulders were permanently hunched over. His long hair was matted and dirty, the dust and grime of prison clearly visible against the platinum. His face was ashen and almost translucent. His skin was sloped downward in harrowing wrinkles, dark circles surrounded his eyes that, despite the years of imprisonment, remained just as bright of a blue and deadly as they had ever been.

Lucius thin, cracked, lips pulled up into a smile at the sight of his son. It had been so long since he had seen Draco, that he barely recognized him. All the trappings of a teenage boy were gone and in their place stood a man with a strong spine, exceptional taste, and sharp eyes. He indicated the chair across from him, his chains clanging loudly against the linoleum of the table.

Draco took a longer moment to take in what had become of the great Lucius Malfoy before taking the few steps to sit across from him. The guards who had led him, shut the door behind them leaving just the two Malfoy’s and a large Dementor floating in the corner.

He eyed the dementor wishing that he had his personal patronus sat next to him. He would never have protection from the creatures again, never see that luminous glow surrounding flesh again and immediately know that everything would be fine. That comfort was gone.

“Draco,” Lucius began. His voice was hoarse but still managed to lift in some twisted form of joy. “I was surprised to hear that you were visiting.”

Draco said nothing, debating if coming had even been a good idea. His eyes were still taking in the deteriorating man. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.

The smile slipped off of Lucius and a much more realistic frown took its place. “I’m sorry about Ember.”

Draco swallowed roughly.

Lucius leaned forward. “Truly, I am. She was…extraordinary and I have always regretted that I didn’t get to know her as much as I would have liked to.”

“You had plenty of time if you had you’re priorities sorted.” Draco’s voice cut like a diamond, his eyes fiercely protective, even now.

Lucius leaned back. His face formed into impassive, but his eyes showed his vigilance. “Priorities shift. You should know that better than anyone.”

Draco stumbled to a pause. He had not been expecting any understanding and, whether this was a new manipulation ploy or not, he was wading much carefully than he had just moments before. “Why do you keep sending me letters?” He demanded.

“Can I not miss my son?”

“You’ve never had that kind of emotional span before.” 

Lucius watched Draco’s steady face for a long while.

“Well-”

Draco cut him off before he could twist anymore words or give him false niceties. “How about the truth?” 

Lucius pursed his lips. In truth, Ember’s death had opened a lot of possibilities to him. He had bet on Draco being emotionally distraught enough to finally visit him. The two of them were so co-dependent from the time spent in their youth that Lucius did not have a shot in hell trying to get Draco to listen to him with her influences hanging around. All of this could have been forgiven; them working for the Order of the Phoenix, Draco becoming a bloody auror, Ember working for the damn Quibbler, but the fact that Draco would not continue the Malfoy line was unforgiveable. That could be amended now, with time. 

But with the whispers he had heard from his depressing cage, he had a more prudent idea to give to Draco. 

“The truth hmm? The truth is that things are changing. They’ve been changing and to survive in here, you must gather and trade information. I am in need of your help on the outside.”

Draco’s hands clenched into tight fists. “Why would I ever do you a favor?”

Lucius grinned, knowing he was about to pin point the only button that might have a chance of swaying his conformed son. “Because Ember was not the only wizard gifted with necromancy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Hedwig’s theme plays*
> 
> I know this is left on a very substantial cliffhanger and truthfully I think I have enough material to write a sequel- if I wanted to- but I will not. Throughout the story I have left a lot in the subtext intentionally. I know all the answers to such questions but I want the reader to be able to interpret how they would like. A major theme of this story is choices and therefore I want to give you the choice to fill in the blanks for yourself.
> 
> I am quite proud of this work for multiple reasons
> 
> For those of you who don’t know, this story has been a ten year process. The idea formulated way back in 2009/2010 and I wrote the first nine chapters wayyy back then on Wattpad (which by the way this is also posted there). The story left off just after Ember first revealed her patronus to Voldemort and stayed that way for years upon years, only to be picked up for one more chapter in 2017 then left again until 2020.
> 
> I have never written a story like this. Honestly it’s a miracle that this story even exists after sitting forgotten (ha!) as long as it had been. When I picked it back up during quarantine I spent 207 consecutive days writing. When I did continue writing it, I wrote the middle, then went back and rewrote the beginning, then wrote the ending. It was strange to write this way, but I feel like it in the end gave it more of an organic feel in terms of emotions. This was also the first story that I wrote completely before uploading it to sites (which was hard because I wanted feedback, but I persevered). 
> 
> I hope upon hope, that this story is good enough that it sticks with you for a few days after you finish it. I hope you revisit it from time to time and I hope to hear your comments for years to come. I wanted this story to be completely original and unlike any other Draco Malfoy story (or HP story) you may have come across and I think I’ve accomplished that. 
> 
> Thank you for giving this story a chance.
> 
> ALSO! If you want to see the AMAZING book cover for this story you can look it up on Wattpad!!

**Author's Note:**

> Comment/Kudos
> 
> Please let me know what you think!!


End file.
